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Realms: These Shattered Stars Logs

Interlude XV

It's not long after Freyja has inundated the troubadour with information that the berth's door annunciator chimes. The local parcel deliverer, an older Sazian, is waiting patiently at the doorway. Freyja puzzledly regards the delivery person. As far as she knows, they aren't expecting anything else -- their ship is all loaded up. "Hai?"

"Parcel for a Freyja Makkaisdottir," the deliverer says simply.

Freyja studies the package she's handed, a bit blankly, "Er... thank you...?" She wonders a bit bemusedly if there could be a real Freyja Makkaisdottir somewhere here, and this package should be going to her. After all, who'd be sending Freyja packages?

The small case, half an inch thick and about the size of her palm, is fairly typical throughout the galaxy for sending small missives physically rather than over the HoloNet -- or whatever hypernode-based information transfer network passes for the HoloNet in Hutt Space. Surprisingly, it's new. Most such 'card folds' are used and reused, but this one looks recently (and likely locally) bought.

Freyja studies it curiously, then remembers herself and tips the delivery person. A moment later she's heading slowly towards the ship, running a slender finger under the seal to curiously study the contents. With the seal broken, it opens easily. Inside is a neatly printed card:

Captain Thorn Falk requests the pleasure
of your company at dinner this evening.
18:78 Local at ShiKharn Bistro.
Any number of guests welcome.

Freyja blinks, stopping walking in astonishment. She re-reads the card, to be sure she got that right... hai, it still says the same thing. She turns it over... will there be something about it being an elaborate joke, written on the back? Neh... it says exactly what it says.

On the back of the card is a handwritten -- handwritten! -maybe not great penmanship but hand written! -- note stating if Freyja or any of her entourage is in need of 'comfortable formal' wear, to contact a clothier near Ameil's fortress, who has been made 'well and very aware' that he might be approached.

Freyja blinks again, utterly astonished at the note, staring at it for a few moments. She gets a slow, faintly bemused smile at the handwriting, murmuring quietly to herself, "Gracious... is the Captain actually flirting?" She considers for a moment, then murmurs softly to herself, "Huh!" A dinner... she should check to see how formal this ShiKharn place is. She heads thoughtfully into the Eclipse, tucking the card neatly into a belt pouch. A moment later she's plugged into the local holonet, researching the ShiKharn. Absently she murmurs to Vakkal as he paces by, "Want to go out to dinner tonight, Vakkal?"

Vakkal blinks. "Dinner? Sure. Where to? That nerfshack might have something tasty... at least, I thought I saw something that looked edible there, and it wasn't squirming...."

Freyja giggles at Vakkal's comment about not squirming, and simply hands the card up to him, adding, "I'm looking up this ShiKharn place right now. Here we go..."

It actually takes ten seconds for Eclipse's computer to disdainfully deign to connect to the primitive multinary data network that services Tynnea, but shortly Freyja has information about ShiKharn. It's probably not the most expensive place to eat on Tynnea, but it's one of the more comfortable. There's some commentary from people who note that 'the bigheads' don't go there so often, so you're pretty much guaranteed a good, professional, well-done dinner without at all running the risk of a hit going down before the soup course. 'Comfortable formal' seems to mean, unsurprisingly, something formal but comfortable. Formal Balmorran aristoi dress seems to be a bit much.

Freyja giggles at the comment about hits not going down -- then pauses with a faintly rueful look -- maybe she shouldn't laugh! She considers the rest of the information, then looks up at Vakkal with a grin, "So, what do you think?"

Vakkal makes a quiet sound. "Sounds like a dedicated 'neutral ground.'" He arches an eyebrow. "Why are we looking at that place for dinner?"

Freyja grins up at Vakkal from where she's sitting with the datapad on her lap, "Read the card."

Vakkal reads the card, and almost drops it after the first line. "Well... didn't see that coming!"

Freyja giggles delightedly, watching, "Eh... me either, actually." She grins, "Amazing what non-slavering implies, hai?"

Vakkal says, "I still don't know what that Rodian did with the oranges, mind you...."

Freyja laughs aloud! -then grins and looks back at the datapad, calling up information on the clothier, "Let's see what 'comfortable formal' means, hey?"

Unlike the Republic, there is no shop-by-datanet feature. Then again, maybe this is one of those clothiers which are just That Way -- desiring only walk-in customers for custom tailoring.

Freyja hms thoughtfully, "Wolf-feathers... can't call up information on them." She ponders a moment, the slender fingers of one hand tapping lightly and rhythmically on the edge of the datapad... then she grins up at Vakkal, "Well -- let's go find out, shall we?" Then she brightens, "Ooh! I wonder if I could find something appropriate that I could wear with that lovely Sedraki obi-sash!" She grins at Vakkal, "Want to come?"

When the card said 'near the fortress,' it wasn't kidding. The road up to where the keep's front gate used to be is right beside the stone building. There is only a small sign, and no windows. Inside isn't an opulent clothier's such as aristoi might patronize on Balmorra or Alderaan, but it is nice, comfortable, and well lit. Inside are a variety of garments on display for the majority of species within Hutt Space, such as Rodian, Nikto, Twi'lek, and Klatoonian, though one out-of-the-way manikin is apparently intended for Human, Cerean, or similar near-Human physiologies. The person standing at the desk near the door, an Aqualish, asks in Huttee, "How may I help you today, gentlefolk?"

Freyja smiles and politely says, "I was directed to your establishment by Captain Thorn. I am looking for something that is, ah... 'comfortable formal'?"

The Aqualish seems to perk immediately. "Ah, yes," he says, in fluent Aurabesh. "The captain was here earlier. If you would come this way, please, ma'am, he has a recommendation for dinner tonight for you, and asked me to pass on his hope that it is acceptable. For ShiKharn I would say it is, but it is for your consideration."

Freyja raises an eyebrow -- my, but the Captain seems... well prepared? -but simply grins at Vakkal, then nods and follows the Aqualish. "Certes."

The tailor leads the way through a minor maze of tables with textiles. In stark contrast to Republic clothiers, sample reams of textiles are on the tables for the patrons to examine closely, while the stock is behind closed cabinets. In the back are about half a dozen people, mostly druids, but two organic, a female Nikto and a male Twi'Lek. They are having an... animated discussion with one of the droids, which clearly has never had a memory-wipe in this century. It seems to be talking mostly with its hands, including one interesting gesture that Freyja does not recognize but which makes the blue-skinned Twi'lek go magenta with fury, his lekku actually beginning to quiver. The group sees customers in the back, however, and quiet down quickly. The proprietor pays them no heed, instead going to a carefully wrapped box on a table.

"The captain gave us some images of clothes which were recommended to him," the Aqualish says, as the other employees quietly resume their war of coterie-based artistic expression. "After some discussion, this is the style he finally recommended. It would be the work of but a few minutes to properly tailor it for you; the original pattern was apparently for someone just about your height, albeit a little huskier."

The dress within the box is an icy, rich blue kimono in Kamino silk, in the style worn by a few Corellian cultures, though it seems to come to the thigh. The subtle gold- and platinum-thread pattern on it, however, is unmistakably of Southern Balmorran inspiration, with calligraphy of the most ancient pre-Republic. The lower portion of the dress is actually midnight black, loose, pleated trousers with similar but also black embroidery.

Freyja politely hides a grin at the reaction of the Twi'lek to the droid. Her family has a droid or two in that condition also, mostly due to the children of several generations clamoring not to have their bestest droid playmate mind-wiped. She moves over to study the recommended dress with interest, wondering idly who the original was from.

Freyja raises an eyebrow slowly at the dress, gently running golden fingers over the cool, rich silk, savoring the texture. After regarding it for a moment she raises her head to smile at the store's proprietor, "This is lovely, hai, and thank you." She pauses for a moment, then adds, "Would this obi go well with it, do you think?" She opens the package she's got with her, containing the beaded Sedraki nomad sash, and lays it out carefully.

The Aqualish leans over a little to examine the sash. In the back the Nikto starts waving a pair of cloth-shears half-threateningly at the droid, who is making a big show of holding two of its four manipulative armatures over its audio receptors. "Yes, it will indeed," he says. "It is overall a darker shade than the cloth of the kimono, so it will work nicely." The Aqualish looks up, then blinks. "Interesting," he says. "The color of the kimono matches your eyes."

Freyja tilts her head at the man, then simply smiles. She is internally a bit startled, however. Was the captain really that perceptive? -and she missed it? She grins quietly to herself, internally, then says calmly, "So... would 'comfortable formal' necessitate wearing the trousers?"

The Aqualish considers, then shakes his head. "Not at all. That is only what was part of the original design as presented to us by the captain."

Freyja nods thoughtfully, "All right. As long as this lovely top reaches to at least here," she indicates mid-thigh on herself, "-it should be fine. Do you have any shoes or, er... what are those called... stocking-leggings, I think? Do you have anything like that here in something sturdy... maybe some Alderaanian spidersilk, or something?"

The Aqualish eyeballs Freyja with a professional clothier's eye. "If it does not, it can be easily tailored as such. I do not think it is very much shorter than that length. I believe we can accommodate what you are suggesting, certainly."

Freyja looks pleased, "Excellent!" She considers a moment, then asks pragmatically, "May I inquire as to how much this will cost, please?"

"As for the leggings, yes; please just let me know what style and material you would wish." He shakes his head. "It is with Captain Thorn's compliments. He was not certain if you, 'in your line of work' as he said, would have formal clothing with you."

Freyja has to cover a grin again at the 'line of work' comment, but then simply nods courteously. She'll ask the clothier for suggestions on the leggings, then select something which he believes will be attractive. She is, somewhat to her startlement, enjoying herself. She's so used to 'formal' meaning between two and four hours of being fussed endlessly over, stuffed into stiff, uncomfortable, and restrictive clothing, poked and prodded and painted and preened, and then paraded about like a mechanical toy... that the relative ease of this entire interaction is a delight in comparison!

A moment later, Freyja looks at Vakkal inquiringly, "Do you think you need something formal, or are you comfortable with what you've got already?"

Vakkal blinks and looks at himself. "Well... I don't have the unif- uh, any uniform or such, but I think what I have would be well enough. It's clean and neat..."

Freyja nods, "All right, as long as you're happy."

The Aqualish gives his race's equivalent of a sniff. "Frankly, sir, no. Come now, I have something that will be just fine for your species..."

The Aqualish rather unremittingly drags a helpless Vakkal to the side. In short order he has the big canid outfitted in something a bit neater and slightly more formal than his usual wear; something that might be more appropriate for an overdressed Wookiee but still seems to fit him well ("But, sir! Your pelt is excellently groomed, it is a SIN against culture to cover it!"). Vakkal ends up wearing something similar to a Wookiee baldric and a kilt. He looks extremely comfortable, but does mutter something about Fhazil never letting him live it down.

Freyja finds herself stifling giggles more than once as she watches, but enthusiastically agrees with the clothier when her opinion is appealed for.

Freyja will conclude the discussion with the Aqualish clothier, set a time for collecting the dress and accoutrements, grin at the defiant droid and the now-purple Twi'lek, and head out with Vakkal. She glances up the hill at the keep with a faintly amused/bemused smile, then wanders back towards the ship. "This is... really curious, don't you think, Vakkal? I've... never had anything like this happen before." She ponders a moment, then asks thoughtfully, "Do you suppose he's setting up a really nice environment to ask for a favor or something? I mean... well, he must know we're leaving in a day or two, after all...?"

Vakkal looks at Freyja for a moment, then shakes his head. "You're serious. I'm sorry, even this long knowing you, it is surprising.... I think he likes you, Freyja, and is not trying to ask any favors of you."

Freyja looks faintly sheepish, "Well... all right, but... but doesn't it seem strange to you, to put this much effort into... well..." she flounders for words a bit, then says confusedly, "I mean -- we're leaving, you know?"

"Yes, we are. But Captain Thorn does not know what our destination is, or that we may not have the time or ability to stop by here on our way back, or return. Though why he would think someone would wish to return to Hutt Space is beyond me...."

Freyja considers that thought for a moment... then finally just smiles and shrugs ruefully, "I... don't understand. I suppose Syffie might... but I don't. Still, he's being very sweet as far as I can tell." She grins, adding cheerfully, "And what a great excuse to get you into more comfortable clothing!'

Vakkal adds dryly, "If he's actually a former Balmorran, then he probably knows how Balmorran formal clothing can be...

Freyja blinks... then laughs, "Oh, good point!"

ShiKharn is a comfortable restaurant in the core of the Mos, against the edge of the ravine. Like most local establishments, it has no windows, but inside is well lit and at a comfortable temperature. The interesting thing is the architecture. The stone walls have pillars carved out of them, and they merge with the natural stone almost seamlessly. Within there is a three-tiered floor, with the focus going to what looks like a natural indoor pool, with a flow of water in a subterranean waterfall keeping the pool filled.

The place is not deserted; a number of tables with various numbers of patrons are occupied. Only a few look like there's anything shady going on. At a table near the pool a figure stands and waves, greeting the arrivals with a smile. It is Thorn.

Thorn Falk, formerly Ullr Weiland Skaldr of Balmorra, looks a bit more of his past than usual tonight. A lapel-less white silk shirt, loose and somewhat flowing and not starched or stiffened, covers his torso and is held close by a snug vest in black and maroon brocade. A black sash is worn over the vest, while the dark brown breeches he wears tucked into high black leathern boots. He carries himself comfortably, at ease and not at all tense.

Freyja looks around thoughtfully, rather attracted to the pleasant interior architecture -- she's always loved the relaxing, soothing sound of flowing water. She brightens, noticing Thorn, and touches Vakkal's arm lightly before heading in that direction. As the party approaches, Thorn bows, still smiling. "Thank you for coming. I'm very glad you could make it."

Freyja smiles, bringing her right hand up in the usual Balmorran salute even as she bows slightly, the same as the Captain. "Thank you for inviting us, Captain... it was too kind of you, indeed."

    Freyja's willowy form is stylishly clad in a thigh-length kimono of icy, rich blue silk, which matches her brilliant, intense eyes. The subtle gold and platinum embroidery embellishes ancient, pre-Republic calligraphy. A darker blue obi, intricately beaded in a delicate pattern, holds the kimono closed and elegantly defines the curves of her waist and hips, while her long, svelte legs gleam in smoothly form-fitting, sheer, dark silk. Her golden skinned face, framed by a short, curling mane of fiery gold hair, glows with serene happiness in the Light. Her walk is strong and sure, swaying with lithe grace.

As they close, for a brief moment Thorn's eyes almost leap out of their sockets, but he recovers quickly. "Not at all," he says, smiling and returning the salute. "It is my pleasure. And may I say what you have done with the dress is very stunning?"

Freyja brightens, "You like it? Thank you!" She adds amusedly, "Although I must say your choice of tailor was exceptional. I shall have to thank him." She grins a bit mischievously, adding, "You do seem to plan ahead well..."

Thorn smiles. "I try to, but I cannot take all the credit. It was after I had sent the invitation I realized you as a Jedi might not have formal wear with you. Orfune was very gracious in making recommendations as to formal wear for ShiKharn."

Freyja nods interestedly, "The majordomo? Fascinating!" Her grin remains slightly mischievous as she wonders internally who it is the graceful Twi'lek dresses up for.

"She is more well-versed in matters of ladies' clothing than I am, and she has dined here before. Plus, she is about your height," he adds wryly. "But, please, the table is here. May I seat you, Kuras?"

Freyja smiles and nods, "Please." She neatly tucks her short dress under her as the Captain slides the chair in behind her, then watches as the captain and Vakkal seat themselves.

After they are seated, Thorn looks to Freyja and says, as he draws an Oghan lotus from the vase, "If I may, Kuras, there is one Balmorran custom which I have always been enamored with, and yet have never been able to perform. If you would permit me...?"

Freyja raises an interested eyebrow, then smiles and gives the captain an intrigued look, "Hai?"

Thorn realizes he wasn't clear. "Oh! My apologies. May I let this bloom be graced by your hair?"

Freyja blinks... then smiles again, enchanted. This also is something she's never had done for her by any but family or servants, despite it being a customary indicator of interest in a possible partner. She leans forward, her eyes sparkling, so Thorn can tuck it neatly into her hair.

Thorn smiles and reaches over to gently tuck the Oghan blossom into Freyja's hair, "'This bud of fascination, by summer's ripening breath,'" he quotes, "'May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.'"

Freyja tries to remember the significance of lotuses... isn't it eloquence? Her cheeks turn a slightly warmer gold at the captain's words. A moment later she remembers her first face-to-face words with the Captain, and she flushes a bit more, "Thank you, Captain Thorn; you are truly an aristoi and a gentleman." She hesitates, then adds a bit sheepishly, "I, ah... should probably apologize for using the imperative tense in Huttee when first we met -- the one my vid-texts all assured me was 'Hutt invoking lunch!' I just... didn't know any other imperatives!"

The lotus feels faintly warm to Freyja's touch -- and warm in the Force at that. It is a very pretty blossom, though, and nicely elegant with eight petals and a delicate pistil.

Thorn laughs warmly. "That's quite all right. The imperative form of Huttee is extremely useful; it's arguably even more useful for a non-native Huttee speaker to learn than the neutral form."

Freyja pauses, then delicately touches the little bloom with cautious fingers, startled at the sensations she's getting through the Force. The realization hits her -- this is an Oghan lotus! Eight-petaled, with a distinctive center pistil... she'd guess Thorn doesn't realize the significance of that pattern, but still, she can imagine thousands of generations of Bendu monks tending gardens of this lotus in the Oghan monastery.

Freyja gives Vakkal a still slightly startled sideways glance, wondering if he can feel it too, then turns her ice-blue gaze back to the Captain. Her tone is carefully courteous, however, despite her surprise, "I... thank you, deeply, for your gracious choice of blossom, honorable Captain." She's truly quite moved, the more she meditates on the blossom -- is she receiving a psychometric imprint from it?! Tens of thousands of years of powerful, emotional meditation upon the Oghan lotus -- enough time to impress the import of the Bendu wheel upon the very archetype of the delicate blossom... or was the blossom the inspiration for the Bendu wheel?

Thorn inclines his head, smiling as if to put Freyja at ease. "I thank you, honorable Kuras. I had often heard of that tradition from my mother. I wondered if I might ever see it through, and despaired of ever performing it when we were run out of the Republic."

Freyja feels, just for a moment, as if Shadows and Light and Dark are wheeling and turning and spinning around her in slow, majestic dance, echoing (or perhaps inspiring?) the unimaginably deliberate, unhurried vastness of the Universal Dance -- all centered upon her small, startledly overwhelmed Self... she takes a deep breath, eyes wide as she holds on to the edge of the table -- and an eternal moment later she's centered again, and present in Here and Now. She blinks, glancing around a bit worriedly, wondering if she said or did anything silly...?

Thorn looks curiously to Freyja. "Are you well, Kuras?"

Freyja takes another breath -- that was... interesting...! -then nods, "Hai. Hai, I am fine... I apologize." Her gaze is intensely curious as she turns it on him, "An... Oghan lotus... may I ask why you chose that blossom, Captain?"

Thorn hmms? "Well, I do not know if it still is, but the language of flowers was an occasional fascination with my mother, who felt that a blossom could speak pages where one's words failed. The lotus is a symbol of eloquence, which is but one of many words which seems to describe you most well, Kuras."

Freyja tilts her head thoughtfully... then smiles warmly, her eyes bright, "Ah, eloquence... you are too kind to describe me so, Captain." Her smile gets a bit more rueful as she asks, "Your thoughtful gift is symbolic on more than one level. Do you know what a psychometric imprint is, Captain? Or who the Bendu monks are, who tend the gardens of the Oghan monastery?"

Thorn considers for a moment, then shakes his head. "I have heard of Oghan and the Bendu monastery there, but little else." He tilts his head to the side. "In what way is it eloquent, if I may ask?"

Freyja struggles for words, "It... speaks through the Force, but in the mind? Not words, though... it... 'feels' eloquently?" She eyes the Captain thoughtfully, wondering if she could perhaps share, and just show him. "Er... are you willing to try a small experiment with me?"

Thorn listens attentively and curiously, then considers. "Well," he says, grinning, "-my first officer was raising a ruckus about dining with a Jedi, but he isn't here. Certainly, Kuras. What do you need me to do?"

Freyja looks a bit puzzled as she reaches to take the captain's hand in her slender one, "He was upset? I wonder why..." She concentrates for a moment, 'reaching' for the Captain within the Force, wondering if she can share that lovely, transcendent, startling moment of symbolism and connection to the Force through the flower.

Thorn murmurs wryly, "We were pirates in the Republic; Jedi were not exactly our best friends!" He gently takes Freyja's hand, honestly curious.

The short delve into the Force is a bit of a surprise for Freyja; something -- Kourikani perhaps? -- is letting her see with a startling clarity she has never known before. The world around her -- the restaurant, the Mos, Tynnea even -- is a blend of shadow and light; the flow of the Force is a multithreaded current that, were it a fluid medium, would make even a seasoned mariner break down and weep. She believes she is sending the impressions of the lotus blossom to Thorn -- he is even less awakened to the Force than Fafnir was, and so he only barely grasps the full import of what Freyja has sensed from the blossom.

With the faint twinge of something at Thorn's core, and the stoic reassertion of that within him which strives to be courageous, Freyja has a sudden realization: many people fear the Force, and what it is that Jedi can see and they cannot. Thorn is one of them in at least a little way, though he overcomes that fear for Freyja's sake. It poisons the connection, however; yet even if it was not there, he could only passingly grasp what Freyja attempts to show him.

But perhaps it is enough. When Freyja is done, Thorn sits there, blinking and frowning, his brow furrowed. "That... I don't know... er, didn't know.... that is what you felt when I gave you the flower...?"

Freyja says, "Somewhat, hai." She tilts her head, a little sad, "The Force is... beautiful, in a way unimaginable. It's part of you, it flows through you, the same as it flows through this flower... and this flower is a beautiful symbol to the Bendu monks of the Force. Meditating upon it, they can more clearly open themselves to the Force and to enlightenment... and by the very nature of their unifying meditation, they strengthen the flower's connection to the Force." She pauses, keenly aware of the inadequacy of words alone, then adds a little helplessly, "I... wish I knew how to say it better for you!" "

Thorn smiles quietly. "I can tell... for you it's something very special. Admittedly, for me the Force is what Jedi used to hunt us down whenever possible... but considering what we were doing, I can't say I blame them." He considers for a moment. "I... think I understand what you mean, though." He smiles again. "Actually experiencing it must be different, though. Thank you for showing me. I think.. it helps me to understand it a little better."

Freyja smiles slowly, glad he appreciated the attempt, however poorly she was able to share with him, "I hope it made sense." She adds quietly, "I am sorry I do not have a flag to recommend to you. I wish I did," then grins, gently teasing, "But please feel free to remind your first officer that though I be a Jedi, this is Hutt space -- and he shouldn't forget that!"

Thorn laughs warmly. "I certainly will. It should mollify him." His smile becomes gentle. "And I thank you for your consideration. We have been looking for quite some time. If need be, we will continue looking."

The courses of the dinner pass well, with pleasant conversation all around. While at one point Thorn politely inquires as to Vakkal's species, the question is dodged well enough that he does not press the issue. Thorn does well with sparkling conversation, and is a good listener as well, focusing with rapt attention to both of the dinner guests whenever they speak. As dinner closes he smiles and says, "If you wish, I can bring you by the Rapier and we can see if that information you want is there."

Freyja has been having a lovely time, somewhat to her surprise. An attentive, polite, genuinely interested gentleman focused on her is not something she's used to -- and this one seems to find her not only fascinating, but beautiful. Having a moment to relax and just be herself, instead of worrying about what's going to happen next or whose ruffled feelings need to be soothed this instant, is unexpectedly pleasurable to her also. She hadn't realized how much she missed straightforwardly intellectual conversation. All of that, coupled with a delicious dinner in a lovely atmosphere, has her glowing with enjoyment and her eyes sparkling by the time Thorn asks his question. She assents happily to his suggestion, patting one full, embroidered sleeve to reassure herself the datapad is safely ensconced within.

Thorn nods. "Certainly, then," he says, smiling. "Shall we?" Freyja rises smoothly, smiling, and politely takes Thorn's proffered arm. He escorts her, with Vakkal, to his low-key landspeeder. A short ride later they're at the Rapier.

The Rapier is a small ship, though still significantly larger than the Eclipse. It looks capable of carrying about thirty persons on relatively long hauls, with a large cargo through-deck on the underside and weapons pods on the ends of the wings and elsewhere on the hull. A couple of enforcers -- one Nikto and one a species that is a mix of canine and insectile, which Freyja does not recognize -- are at the boarding ramp, keeping guard. Both are armed with concussion carbines. They straighten a little as the landspeeder pulls up.

Freyja studies the ship with interest, then turns to grin mischievously at Rapier's captain, "So this is the dreaded scourge of Balmorra Sector? Gracious... I'm all aflutter!" She giggles at the dry snort from Vakkal behind her, then composes herself to a more proper demeanor for in front of the men, as the captain moves around the landspeeder to open the door for her.

Thorn grins softly as he draws the landspeeder up. "It is, of sorts, though we tried hard to not make it quite that big a scourge."

Freyja accepts the captain's hand with a smile, then slides smoothly out of the landspeeder. It's interesting having to move a bit more carefully due to the short skirt of the dress she's in... but the full sleeves of the kimono allow her to conceal a necessary little tug on the rear. As she tucks her hand neatly back onto the captain's politely proffered arm, she wonders vaguely if Vakkal's right, and graceful long legs are as attractive to humanoids as he asserts. She glances at her legs for a moment. Hm... well, they're certainly long. She's been told she's graceful. Maybe she qualifies? The captain's startlement at first seeing her in the restaurant hadn't seemed horrified, after all...

Thorn is certain to help Freyja out of the landspeeder at her own pace, to allow her to maintain her modesty. The Nikto seems a bit startled, but the other being is utterly unreadable to Freyja -- having a muzzle and a pair of mandibles makes for an odd visage. "Captain," the Nikto remembers to greet Thorn, "Uh, ship secure, sir. Mister Ghorrdo is in engineering, prepping the hyperdrive for replacement."

Freyja smiles politely at both individuals, although her gaze does linger with a touch of interest on the unknown species. Muzzles she's comfortably familiar with. Mandibles, though... the nuances of that facial type are curious and unfamiliar to her. Thorn nods. "Very good, Horggh. Let Mister Ghorrdo know I am aboard with two guests. We'll be on the bridge." He smiles to Freyja, "Shall we?"

Freyja grins cheerfully at the captain, brushing her fiery gold bangs back, "Certes, please!"

Thorn ushers Freyja up the ramp, the Nikto trying not to turn and watch as Freyja passes by. The Rapier is on the inside a very snug craft, with three levels; the lowest is the cargo through-deck. The middle is quarters and lower engineering, the upper is the workspaces, lounge, and upper engineering.

Freyja smiles as she realizes the Nikto's reaction -- she guesses he, like the first officer, is worried about a Jedi on the ship. There's a memory tugging at her mind, though, that she can't quite place yet... something about his expression...

The bridge of the ship is likewise snug, with a few consoles. Interestingly, in contrast to various holovids featuring pirates -- including one Syf was in -- there is no throne-like center seat for the captain to laugh maniacally from and order the plunder of a starliner or such. "Welcome to my office," Thorn says with a quiet chuckle.

Freyja grins cheerfully, looking around, "Not at all like what the holovids portray! Isn't there supposed to be a huge black flag with a skull of some species on it?"

Thorn laughs. "We keep that for special occasions in the lounge." He sits at one of the more centerline consoles, which is arranged before the wide front windows. Other than the three of them, there is nobody on deck. "Let's see if there's anything we can find..."

Freyja moves to stand behind Thorn, one hand resting on the back of the chair he's in, so she can interestedly observe over his shoulder. She grins excitedly, "I hope you still have it -- that'd be so helpful!" She pulls out her datapad with the other hand, and waits.

Thorn says wryly, "I hope so as well. It'll help if we can find out who ran us out of the Republic."

Thorn accesses the ship's database, and very shortly nods. "Here we are. The RLT Dhorhosth -- that's Republic Licensed Tradeship; means they're authorized to haul government and military cargoes. Uhm, on the route between Balmorra to Tannaab -- that was unusual in and of itself -- most cargo goes to Commenor. We thought it was a priority cargo to the front. Here's the manifest: a few heavy war droids -- Viper-class, they're basically tanks. Several hundred cannon fodder battle droids -- they pack up fairly easily. Some special-ops droids -- no way we were going to take them. Rumor has it a pirate plundered a couple of them once. They found him and his crew spaced. Let's see... registered out of Caamas, Duros crew with some Rodians... we didn't get their shipping plan; no way to tell where they were going after Tannaab. But they left Balmorra on that date there."

Freyja brightens, hastily taking notes as she nods, listening and recording... then sighs happily, "Wonderful. Anything else you can think of that might be helpful? Oh! Can I ask you to repeat your story for my datapad, so I don't leave out any important details?" Thorn obliges, telling the story -- though of course being just as expansive as before when he told it.

Freyja sits in the chair of the console next to him, comfortably crossing her legs and settling back to interestedly listen again, and so the datapad can be settled on the console in front of him. Thorn attempts not to be too distracted by the sight. It's probably a good thing, though Freyja does not realize it, that more of Thorn's crew aren't on board.

As Thorn relates the tale, Freyja's sensitive hearing can detect some chatter coming down the corridor, speaking Huttee. As they come into view it's hard to believe the deep, resonant syllables of Huttee are coming from the young Human man's throat. He carries a tray of hydro-spanners as he talks animatedly with the Rodian first officer. A moment later, the Rodian is turning to the bridge. "Captain, we have a problem with the -- oh! Good even-" It's at about that time the tray of hydro-spanners makes a resounding racket as they all fall to the metal-grate deck -- the Human lad is rather stunned, blinking at Freyja -- but he recovers, quickly shoveling tools back onto the tray.

Thorn at least doesn't jump out of his chair at the sound. The Rodian, on the other hand, seems a bit more sensitive to sound. "Eeeeeeeeeeeyaaaah!! Dorn!! Argh, my tympana...! "

Freyja half-rises startledly at the racket, "Are you all right?" She blinks -- the young Human seems fine? -and moves towards the Rodian, "Easy, easy... yelling will just make it worse, first officer... do you want me to check your ears?"

Dorn, the young Human who would appear to be about Freyja's age in Balmorran years, stammers an apology. "Uh, sorry, Mister Ghorrdo! Sorry! " As he hurriedly shovels up the hydro-spanners he sees Freyja half-standing. "Uh... how do you do, ma'am! " he says quickly. A half-threatening gurgle from the Rodian sees him hurried pack up the last of the hydro-spanners.

Freyja feels in her sleeve for her medkit, then remembers she left her datapad on the console. It can wait -- she smiles absently at the Human, "Nice to meet you, Dorn...?" -then looks back at the Rodian, holding up the medkit inquiringly.

The Rodian sighs, dropping his hands. "No... no, but, thank you. It was just sudden. " He smiles -- it's hard to tell if Rodians are actually smiling -- to Freyja, then looks to Thorn.

Freyja wonders what a 'mam' is, but figures it can wait. She smiles warmly back to the Rodian, relieved nothing was damaged, and turns to retrieve her datapad, sitting on the console in front of Thorn. The captain smiles a little wryly. "Freyja, may I present my first officer, Mister Ghorrdo, and our engineer, Dorn Antilles. Gentlemen, Freyja Makkaisdottir of Balmorra."

Freyja tucks the datapad into her sleeve, then gives a slight, abbreviated bow, "Pleasure to meet you, first officer, engineer." She grins, "Even moreso now we're not face-to-face with weapons!"

The Rodian laughs a little uneasily. "Ah, heh, yes, sorry about that. We didn't know what we were going to find. If it helps any, a deck-sweeper is a stun weapon... er, honest! That one was, at any rate. "

Freyja eyes the engineer, then brightens, "Oh! I've heard of you -- you're the amazing engineer Majordomo Orfune mentioned, aiyah! Congratulations on keeping the Rapier in such fine fighting trim." She grins lazily at the Rodian, her eyes dancing, "Oh, worry not... so is a lightsaber, ey?" She adds curiously, "Why sorry, though?"

Dorn blinks in shock. "Er... she did? Orfune did?! Ah... thank you! Thank you very much! I think I'm that same engineer... no, I mean, yes, I am that same engineer! "

Ghorrdo makes the Rodian equivalent of a polite cough. "No, I know a lightsaber isn't. But that model of deck-sweeper really is a stunner."

Freyja covers a small giggle with one slender hand, her eyes bright with amusement. The engineer seems... very earnest, she thinks. Then she smiles at the Rodian, "Truly, used properly a lightsaber only reflects the intentions of the attacker. Therefore, at that point it was indeed a stunner." She smiles, wondering why he seems vaguely uncomfortable.

The Rodian blinks, then purses his lips, shuffling his feet. "Hadn't thought about it that way. Mostly what we hear of the use of lightsabers is something on the order of fillets or cutlets or-" Thorn coughs. The Rodian straightens, and bows slightly to Freyja. "You make a good point," he says wryly.

Dorn, meanwhile, has packed up the hydro-spanner tray, waiting patiently and looking much more at ease. Freyja can tell, however, he's a bit of a ball of energy inside, in part with the occasional glance he casts in Freyja's direction, in part because of the almost constant movement he makes -- a fidget here, a scratch there, making sure the hydro-spanners will stay in the tray this time...

Freyja casually runs the slender fingers of one hand along the edge of her dress... she doesn't think it's hiked up anywhere it shouldn't...? -ah, that's it -- that's why the Rodian's uncomfortable. She grins, "Ah, I understand. Still... were you told that by a Jedi, or by someone trying to build up how terrible Jedi are?" She grins, her eyes dancing with mischief again, and adds, "Besides... this is Hutt space, aiyah?" She puts one fist on her hip and shakes a cheerfully admonishing finger at the Rodian, "Shouldn't forget that, you know -- or at least that's what everyone here keeps telling me!"

Freyja giggles again at the startled expressions on the faces of all three crewmembers of the Rapier due to her teasing, then adds, "I'm sorry... I shouldn't tease. I just always like finding out propaganda's usually not as bad as it's painted... and helping defuse it is nice." She grins quietly at Vakkal, then looks back at the other three men, curious as to how they'll react to a 'nice' Jedi. Well... she hopes she's being nice...?

The Rodian makes a wry expression. "Believe me, that's the last thing any of us are going to forget -- that we are in Hutt Space." He straightens a little and looks to Thorn. "I didn't want to interrupt. I beg your pardon, Freyja Makkaisdottir, but if I may have a moment of the Captain's time?"

Freyja smiles, "Of course." She glances inquiringly at Thorn, "Should I step out?"

The Rodian shakes his head quickly. "Not at all. It isn't that sensitive. Please, stay." To Thorn, he says, "Captain, we have a problem with the hyperdrive. Dorn says the carbonite casing is cracked straight through. I hope you were able to find a replacement at the scrapyard, because we're going to need it after all."

Freyja settles back in front of the console she was before earlier, swiveling the chair so she can interestedly watch the conversation, and comfortably crossing her legs again. Ghorrdo nods as he finishes speaking, then gets an odd expression. "Oh... one more thing. The fuel loading isn't going as we expected. Dorn, what did you say- Dorn. Dorn!"

The young Human had been trying desperately to not be noticed as he glanced covertly at Freyja, but the unexpected request for information catches him by surprise. He doesn't quite drop the hydro-spanners again. "Oh! Uh... er... sorry!" he stammers in Aurabesh, with a distinctly Alderaanian accent. He reverts back into Huttee. "Sorry, Mister Ghorrdo. Uh, " and he can't help but address both Thorn and Freyja. "The fuel flow is half of what we expected. The pumpers say they have no idea what the problem is, but a few minutes ago they called back saying there's been a leak in the piping tunnels. A team is repairing it now, but it stalled the fuel load."

Freyja is watching the Rodian, so she too turns her head to look at Dorn, catching that slightly stunned look. For a moment she's a bit puzzled -- did he hurt himself on a spanner or something? What's he looking at so fixedly?

It's with a sudden tingling swirl of adrenaline across her skin that she abruptly understands -- that she suddenly and accurately places the look she saw on Dorn's face, on the Nikto outside... even, a bit, on the Captain's face when he's unguarded. It's that same look of... of what she's not sure, but it's the one she sees people devoting to Syffie all the time -- it means they really like the person they're looking at!

Freyja's ice-blue eyes widen as she considers that thought -- could that really be true?! Vakkal keeps saying it is... she looks over at the big front window. It's slightly reflective... unself-consciously she rises, studying the faint reflection as dispassionately as she can. Is she really pretty? It's not just the dress or something? Her mental whisper to Vakkal is fascinatedly curious, Is it just me, or does the young Human find me attractive?

Thorn nods thoughtfully. "The fuel system's almost as old as this ship, and in an even worse state of repair... and they don't have Dorn doing their maintenance." The subtle praise brightens the young Human significantly, not quite making him puff out his chest in pride. "All right. I'll pass on word to Orfune that we'll be delayed in getting into space again. Ghorrdo, get hold of the scrap yard and grease the greezel's palms. Er, tentacles. If that doesn't work, see if that bottle of Corellian whiskey will get him to have his people work faster."

The Rodian nods. "I'll do that, Captain. And the fuel seepage?"

Vakkal's reply is wryly amused, I think he finds you fascinatingly attractive, Freyja.

Freyja blinks, murmuring softly to herself, "Huh!" She beams at Vakkal for a second, then turns and settles comfortably into the chair again, a faintly pleased look on her face. A moment later she grins quietly to herself... and crosses her legs again. So... she has nice legs, does she? How nice!

Thorn shakes his head. "Nothing to be done for it. We can't exactly threaten them to work faster; that won't get any results. If the purge line is still functional, purge the tanks and have them run their purifiers -- make sure there's no contaminants. That at least has got to work."

Ghorrdo nods. "Sure thing, Captain." He looks to Freyja. "Freyja Makkaisdottir, it was a pleasure to see you again." Almost without looking he nudges Dorn, who has again become half-mesmerized by Freyja. "Say good night, Dorn."

Freyja smiles, her eyes warm with happiness -- she feels very nice just now! "Good night, First Officer Ghorrdo, Engineer Dorn. It was a pleasure meeting you both again also."

The Human blinks. "Uh... good night Dor- I mean, er, good night, Freyja Makkaisdottir!" he stammers, then actually bows -- not quite courtly, but what he lacks in elegance he makes up for in energy. Freyja grins and politely does a seated half-bow herself as well in return. She thinks the engineer is nice.

Thorn is thoughtful after the two depart, tapping his chin a bit before looking to Freyja and smiling. "Sorry about that, if it bothered you," he says. "I trust Ghorrdo to come to me at any time when something comes up that he feels needs my attention right away."

Freyja beams happily at the Captain once the two have left. She's extremely pleased at her self-realization, even as she's not yet aware of the full-wattage effect of her happiness turned directly on the Captain, "They seem nice! Why would I be bothered?"

Thorn smiles widely, looking pleased. "I don't know why you would be, and I am glad you weren't. They're both very good officers -- Dorn in particular is a wiz with engines. And Ghorrdo keeps the rest of the ship in one piece."

Freyja smoothes one hand along her thigh, happily straightening the lovely dress, then smiles at the Captain again, "You're lucky, then -- good people aren't exactly common." She sighs with pleasure, then adds, "If I didn't say so before, thank you so much for recommending this dress! It makes me feel really pretty."

Thorn inclines his head. "You're very welcome, Freyja. I'm glad it pleases you! Actually, after I asked Orfune for her recommendation, she asked if we might visit the fortress for a bit so she could see how well it fit you."

Freyja laughs delightedly, "Oh, my, really?" She grins cheerfully, "Well, I wouldn't dream of disappointing the formidable Orfune!" She bounces lightly to her feet, then pauses for a second to be sure the dress is still respectable... a tug here, a pat there, and she's ready. She beams at the captain, "Shall we, then?"

The short re-arrangement of Freyja's dress actually seems to startle Thorn a bit, or at least mesmerize him, but he recovers without having to drop a tray of hydro-spanners. He stands, smiling and offering his arm. "Certes, Kuras," he says, wryly adding, "I hope you found everything you needed from the records?"

Freyja is, for perhaps the first time in her life, comfortably aware she's pretty -- and it's her -- not her clothing, not four hours of make-up, just her! She feels light-hearted and somehow almost sparkly with pleasure, as if she should be glowing, lighting up the room around her. She beams at the captain, taking his arm, "I hope so too -- thank you for your help!"

Walking out of the ship with Captain Thorn is a strange and wonderful pleasure -- she's keenly aware of both her surroundings and her senses. The soft caress of the silk against skin, the comfortable sway of her body as she moves, the occasional admiring look from a passer-by... she feels absurdly like bursting into song, or dancing with glee. How could it have taken her so long to believe? -and... heiya, heiyo, she's really pretty!

Thorn watches Freyja, and as they step off of the boarding ramp for the Rapier he says, "May I say, Kuras, that while I wouldn't say this to Orfune tonight, a smile on your lips makes you even more beautiful than even the finest clothing in the galaxy could?"

Freyja looks up a bit startledly at the Captain -- then flushes a warm gold, laughing softly and giving him an impetuous hug, "Thank you, Captain, that's so sweet!" She straightens, smiling up at him, "Truly may I thank you... you have been so very kind to me tonight!" Then, still a bit self-conscious, she turns and continues walking with him, her hand still decorously tucked into his arm.

Freyja's glowing pleasure in the moment is perceptible not just externally, but internally as well. As she quietly and happily hums to herself, Vakkal can 'feel' occasional gleeful pings of emotion, like small, joyful sparks whirling off a roaring bonfire. At his amused mental query about why she only now believes she's pretty, she is momentarily silent, considering... then finally she answers with thoughtful enjoyment.

I think it's because... it's like a muscle, you know? If you've trained yourself all your life not to use a particular muscle, to protect yourself from expected pain, then being suddenly told it's all right to use it again doesn't mean you'll immediately start doing so. It takes time, and cautious forays into trying that muscle out... and at some point- her thoughts sparkle with happiness as she continues, -you suddenly realize -- hey! It's true -- you can use that muscle without hurting yourself!

Freyja grins quietly, her blue eyes still bright with happiness, It was the dropping of the hydro-spanners that convinced me, oddly enough. I could not think up a way something like that could be staged on such short notice, by relative strangers -- ergo, it must have been a genuine reaction!

Thorn escorts Freyja down the ramp, past the two sentries. "We'll be at Ameil's fortress if anyone needs us," he says to the sentries.

The Nikto quickly looks away from a stealthy, appreciative glance at Freyja. "Yes, Captain!" he says smartly. The mandible-muzzle alien chitters something apparently in the affirmative. Thorn, satisfied, nods and gestures to the landspeeder. "Well, mustn't keep the majordomo waiting!" he says cheerfully.

Freyja waits for Thorn to open the landspeeder's door for her, singing very quietly to herself. The song just popped into her mind, and feels somehow appropriate,
"All the while you were in front of me I never realized
I just can't believe I didn't see it in your eyes
I didn't see it; I can't believe it
Oh, but I feel it; When you sing t-"

At that moment, a chance turn of her head allows Freyja to spot a pair of odd, alien bipeds, standing on the wall of the berth in the blind spot of the sentries -- and one of them is holding what looks like an insultingly large-bore rifle aimed in their general direction. Freyja's softly humming song to herself cuts off abruptly as she blinks and says in a sharp tone, "Heads up -- incoming!" At the same moment, Kourakani feels like she practically teleports into Freyja's hands, the saber shooting forth like a hissing tongue of flame to deflect.

Something leaps from the rifle; some kind of rocket or missile. Instead of going for Freyja and Thorn, however, it buzzes wickedly through the air towards the landspeeder. Thorn doesn't have enough time to react; the mandibled sentry, however, does, leaping forward and lobbing his concussion carbine to Thorn as he makes an odd, high-pitched chittering. As the landspeeder erupts into a burst of fire, Vakkal's eyes swing to the missile-sniper -- in one motion he draws, kneels, and fires.

Incredibly, the shot plugs the missile-sniper gank right in the center of mass, dropping the creature immediately. It is arguably the best shot Vakkal has ever made, and his brief blink of surprise shows it startled him as well. Freyja grins, and Vakkal can feel her congratulatory mental delight at his impressive success!

Thorn's own shot at the second gank is not nearly as good as Vakkal's, but it comes close, driving the gank down to cover. He taunts, "Yeah, not so tough without your friend with the pulse-missile, are you?!" He holds the carbine at ready... but sees no additional targets. "Maybe we should take a raincheck with Orfune," he says wryly.

Freyja looks around thoughtfully for more attackers, since her companions have the two initial aggressors handily taken care of. She doesn't even bother calling mentally for her triat-elect, since things seem to be calming. Quietly she murmurs, "Why the landspeeder...?"

Freyja considers for a few seconds, then adds in a conversational tone, "Oh! Fuel line blockage... isn't that what you need to build up pressure and fumes, for a dandy explosion? Or... would that be the first thing they'd think of while trying to clear the lines?"

Then, suddenly, there is a series of three rippling shrieks as a trio of rockets leap up from equidistant points around the wall of the berth. They arc upwards... then come down at criss-crossing angles, bursting open as they release large, net-like objects that spread open and drift downward. They appear large enough to cover the Rapier.

Thorn nods slowly. "It could, at that. I wonder if that clog was part of some plan on their-" He blinks as the rockets rise up and burst open. "Stang! Get under the ship, Freyja, don't touch the nets!" He moves to push Freyja and Vakkal quickly under the sheltering bulk of the Rapier's wing.

Freyja has no idea what the nets are, but she obeys with alacrity -- that tone of voice usually means business! Ducked under the ship, she watches with wary curiosity. The sentries dive under the wing themselves, and a moment later the nets apparently land atop the ship. There is an actual gust of wind laden with the acrid scent of ozone, a horrendous loud crackling, snapping sound -- and from somewhere in the Rapier Dorn shouts something incoherent but really angry-sounding.

Freyja winces -- she thinks she actually understood that... rather profane bit of Huttee! She glances at Thorn, the lightsaber held carefully in neutral, "So... someone's trying to pirate your ship? What just happened, please?"

Thorn winces, not only at the ozone and crackling but Dorn's shouts. "Blast," he says, not quite breathing quickly. "Ion nets. The ship's power systems are disabled. I guess they wanted to take out the landspeeder and the ship, to make sure we don't go anywhere."

Freyja raises an eyebrow, then murmurs, "Try comlinks to Orfune."

He glances to Freyja. "Not that I mind spending time with you," he says, grinning, as he pulls out a comlink, "-but I think we'd both prefer it if we had some say in the matter." He winces as the comlink gives him garbled static. "The nets must have jammers, as well," he says, turning his attention to the walls again.

Freyja nods, clicking off the lightsaber, "All right, who do you want notified about this? I'll have my crewmates call."

Thorn blinks to Freyja for a moment, then shakes his head ruefully. "Right, I forgot. Anyone, really. The more the merrier. Might want to start with the fortress. And hopefully someone can get here soon..."

Freyja nods, 'reaching' for Fhazil, since he's less likely to be involved in the ship's innards currently, Fhazil? Could you please notify Orfune, and anyone else you can think of that might be able to assist, that Thorn's ship is under attack? We've just been hit with, um... some sort of energy net with jammers. It's a nicely coordinated attack -- whoever they are, they've even made sure the Rapier doesn't have enough fuel yet to take off. Fhazil replies immediately that he'll contact Orfune. At the same time he's already grabbing Zero -- they're on their way across town.

Freyja opens her eyes and nods to Thorn, "All right, my friends know." She looks at the net with narrowed eyes, "Now then... what exactly are these? They're energy sources or leeches, right?" She remembers soaking up a blaster bolt -- are these really any different, when it comes to hostile energy attacks? And if she can bring them down, that would help the Rapier, surely?

Thorn shakes his head. "They're small ion generators. When they landed they gave out a massive ion pulse -- that was the smell of ozone that hit us. Knocked out every power system on the ship, and probably frazzled the control circuits -- you can imagine Dorn didn't like that too much. They're probably still pulsing ions across the hull."

Freyja frowns thoughtfully, murmuring half to herself, "Really now... well, Kourakani, let's see how they like us..." She lights up the saber again, stepping forward to attempt cutting through the netting.

The nearest cables to the net hum dangerously as she approaches them. It seems a hideous amount of power is coursing through them. As she swings the lightsaber, the blade makes contact through the cable, and in the moist air the cable arcs strongly, a flaring blue flash that ripple electric energy along the lightsaber blade.

But none of it touches her.

Kourakani grows warn in her hands, the pommel-jewel flaring as if coming fully awake. Freyja can see the destructive, murderous energies slipping around her and through her -- and through the pommel-jewel -- without any damage. This is a titanic amount of power; though she is well focused in the Force, it would have surely thrown her on her back. Instead, the bolts of electricity that she does not absorb lick into the hard-packed sand of the berth, grounding harmlessly.

Freyja's eyes narrow slightly in concentration. She has a good impression now of how the Awatea sabers 'grow'... not only do they have their own abilities which develop with their wielders, but they learn as well from the wielder what abilities and powers they have -- and help with those as well.

Vakkal, Thorn, and the others are staring. "That shouldn't be possible," the Nikto murmurs. "Captain, ion nets carry enough juice to barbecue a rancor in nothing flat! She should be fried..."

Freyja grins over her shoulder, her eyes piercingly bright, feeling vaguely like her hair should be flaring with energy, like fire... "Does that help any? Is there anything else I can try to break us out?"

Thorn swallows, then flashes a smile. "Of course it shouldn't be possible," he tells the Nikto. "But she's a Jedi!" To her he adds, "It'll cut down on the juice Dorn has to deal with inside, so it's a good start. I'm more worried about- look out!" This last is a shout, as he points with his carbine to the entrance to the berth, where what seem like six of those same aliens, in two groups of three, are scampering in with concussion carbines blazing.

Freyja looks vaguely annoyed at the intrusion of the aliens -- most unfriendly of them! She just dives neatly through the hole she's cut, though, coming up in the (relative) shelter of the still-blazing landspeeder. The mandibled sentry fires off a snapshot as Freyja dives for cover through the net, the shot driving one of the ganks for cover. A moment later Thorn is crouched behind the landspeeder with her. "Guess the missile-sniper gank had some friends!"

Freyja nods thoughtfully, carefully checking their flanks, then flashes a quick grin at the Captain, "Do you have this problem everywhere you land, Captain?" Vakkal's second shot sings past the ganks without anyone offering to take it. Thorn grins wryly, "Neh, in fact this hasn't happened in quite some time...."

The ganks let off a fusillade of fire at the two crouched behind the landspeeder. Freyja giggles quietly to herself, then mentally locates Vakkal, waiting for him to join them. She'll cover the two distance shooters with her reflecting/absorbing capabilities, if she can.

Freyja watches blaster bolts flying by ineffectually -- until that peculiar 'feel' she has warns her one is coming in directly at Thorn. She flicks the softly humming lightsaber sideways to deflect the attack, quietly murmuring, "Neh you don't..." to herself. The bolt is smacked neatly out of the way, to impact harmlessly with the ground.

Thorn cringes a bit, but blinks as the saber sings neatly past him, the blade making the distinctive charged sound of a concussion shot being deflected. Freyja grins cheerfully at the Captain, "Your turn! You've got the distance weapon, after all."

The Nikto leans out to take a shot, but it goes wide, crunching into the wall of the berth -- likewise for the mandibled sentry's shot. Freyja tilts her head invitingly at Vakkal and grins, in silent communication with him -- she'll cover when he bounds over this way. Vakkal nods to Freyja. Thorn glances back once to the ship, then peeks over the landspeeder to fire a concussion blast at the ganks. When he ducks back down,he shakes his head. "I wonder who invited them?" he comments. In a moment Vakkal is dashing through the hole in the net, landing neatly beside Freyja behind the landspeeder.

Freyja grins at Thorn silently. She's a bit surprised the local authorities haven't responded yet... but until then she'll keep her friends covered. She smiles warmly at Vakkal once he's beside her, glad there was no shooting at him. She doesn't realize yet just how blindingly fast time seems to pass in combat -- it's only been a minute or two yet, after all.

The ganks open up with another fusillade, this time spreading their attacks out between the three. Freyja watches unworriedly as blaster bolts flare and flash past herself and her friends, quietly reflecting to herself it's a good thing the landspeeder makes such a good distraction -- not a single shot even comes close. Even as she thinks that, the last shot comes close to Vakkal. She reacts smoothly, reflecting the blast back at the attacker with a deceptively lazy-looking flick of Kourikani's glowing blade. She grins as the alien dodges his own blast with a startled bark of alarm.

The two sentries provide cover fire as best as they can, firing shots that go a bit too wide to do much. Thorn looks up over the edge of the landspeeder wreckage, then does a quick look around. "I have an idea," he says quickly. He turns and makes quick hand-gestures to the two sentries. "There's a high-pressure relief valve to the steam feed over the door. If I can shoot out the regulator over behind that wall," he points to an outcropping which is blocking the view to a machinery panel, "-that'll overpressure the pipe and trigger the valve. They'll be eating steam if they don't get out of the way."

Freyja nods once, "All right, I'll cover. On your mark." She adds quietly to Vakkal, "Get ready to pick them off..."

Thorn grins, "Thanks. Should take me about ten seconds. The guys back there will lay down distracting fire." He looks out to the outcropping again, then makes a quick, sharp gesture to the two sentries. He grins roguishly to Freyja. "Wish me luck," and before she can answer he's up and side-step-dashing to the panel, his carbine pulsing shot after shot at the doorway to keep the ganks' heads down.

Freyja darts along next to Thorn, an almost iridescent flash of brilliant blue next to him. She's calmly alert, observing the field of battle with the golden lightsaber humming in quiet contentment in her hands. Vakkal's fire is more accurate, more focused. He catches one of the ganks, sending it sprawling and screaming.

Freyja nods once, pleased. Hopefully that accurate shot, coupled with the sudden onset of steam, will take the fire out of their attackers. Maybe she can even persuade them to surrender... that'd be nice, instead of having to pick them painfully off one by one.

Vakkal quickly ducks the fusillade, the movement taking some effort, but his laugh clear in the air of the berth. He gives a sort of whooping-snarl howl which Freyja recognizes as something in his native language. Freyja grins at Vakkal's comment, even as she makes a small mental note -- must learn his language! She runs half-crouched, in defensive stance, the saber humming before her as she blocks line of sight to Thorn. Freyja watches shots flare actinically around them, and finds herself laughing as well -- not a one even comes close enough to try deflecting back!

The sentries' own fire manages to make one of the ganks kiss the deck in startlement, but does little to dissuade the killers. Vakkal's own fire also misses. Thorn continues to run and fire, his face a mask of merriment, constantly gauging the distance between Freyja and himself, the panel he's aiming for, and the ganks. Freyja keeps up easily with the taller man, moving lithely next to him. The ganks' return fire completely fails to make Vakkal so much as twitch. Freyja's liquid laugh ripples across the large, echoing room again. She wonders idly if it's demoralizing to always miss, but doesn't lose her focus on keeping herself and Thorn unharmed.

As for the two making their way to the panel, the ganks demonstrate similar marksmanship. The sentries' fire again misses, but does manage to irritate the ganks. Freyja steps to block easy line of sight to Thorn as he reaches the door and aims for the high-pressure relief valve over it. She'll continue to defend as he does so.

Thorn, in one move, dives, rolls, and comes up to a firing position with the carbine. One shot is all it takes, and the panel blows up satisfyingly. An instant later the ganks are shouting and screaming, scrambling out of the path of the high-pressure steam, and thus out of the berth completely. Freyja nods, pleased -- exactly what she'd hoped for. She stands and calls out calmly, "You may now surrender!"

"My sentiments exactly."

Freyja raises an eyebrow. That voice was not one of the attackers... it came from someone standing on the wall of the berth. She hopes Vakkal and the sentries can keep the attackers from all escaping -- she'll be focusing on this apparent new threat. It sounded modulated, as if by a breathing filter or mask.

On the brim of the berth about ninety degrees away from the door, looking down, is a figure standing calmly with a Wookiee-style bowcaster cradled in its arms -- not pointed at anything in particular, but at the ready. The distinctive armor has red highlights, and the unmistakable, rather creepy T-shaped visor of a Mandalorian. Freyja tilts her head thoughtfully, regarding the Mandalorian. "Declare your allegiance in this conflict, please?"

The Mandalorian gestures slightly with his head as Thorn comes up alongside Freyja. "Thorn Falk. There's a bounty on your head. Alive... or dead. It's your choice as to how you want it delivered."

Thorn grimaces. "Oh, really?" he murmurs. Louder, "Who sent you? Who posted the bounty?" Freyja nods calmly, and listens as Falk talks -- or appears to, at least. Battlemind sweeps silently across her vision, her eyes turning a pale color as her focus narrows and brightens on the Mandralorian.

"You know I can't tell you. You have ten seconds. And I wouldn't try anything, Jedi."

Freyja murmurs quietly, "Why not?"

Moving slowly, the Mandalorian unlimbers his bowcaster. "I have experience in fighting the Force-awakened. Leave it at that. Five seconds, Captain Falk."

Freyja nods thoughtfully, "A reasonable response." Not a good enough one, though... She whispers mentally to Vakkal, I'm guessing he'll target me first. Can you start setting and bracing? I'm going to try shattering his bowcaster first...

Vakkal nods mentally. Doing that now, Freyja...

Freyja gestures with one hand, encompassing the room, "Mandralorian, are you sure you wish to do this? There are many armed and prepared here, targeting on you. They are flush with confidence -- they have been victorious so far, and this is their captain you wish to take." She lets the effects of her Inspiration flow out through her fingers into the Force, swirling gently and encouragingly around her allies. She's not so foolish as to lower her guard, however -- Kourikani hums quietly before her.

The Mandalorian actually seems to pause for a moment, his gaze going slowly from one person to the next. "You will not be able to protect him forever, Jedi. And my client is patient."

Freyja smiles, "You pique my curiosity." She notes in silent interest the Mandralorian is speaking only in Huttee... a subtle hint as to its employer? Thorghul must be really worried about poor Captain Thorn. That, or Senator Kalatis -- and she doubts that, considering Thorn's been here for a year.

The Mandalorian studies Freyja for a moment, then cocks his -- her? -- head. "It will have to remain piqued. Another time, Captain Falk." With that, the Mandalorian jumps up, and the thrusters on his pack ignite, lifting him off into the sky and low across the city.

Freyja laughs! -relaxing slightly but still not letting her guard down. As Vakkal fires, Freyja 'reaches' within the Force to yank down hard on the thruster pack. She sighs disappointedly when it doesn't work, watching the Mandralorian speed away, then smiles quietly to herself... there'll be a next time. The Mandalorian's flight path bobbles a little, and while he takes no notice of the shot from Vakkal, he does cast a completely unreadable glance back as he disappears around a building. Freyja laughs again, watching, and calls cheerfully, "Nothing personal!" Then she murmurs quietly, "Fascinating... did it realize we were too prepared by then?"

A half minute later the steam flow cuts out, and easily two dozen enforcers -- half Gammorean, the other half extremely dangerous-looking types of a variety of species -- charge in, an arsenal of weapons drawn. Freyja grins just as cheerfully at Captain Thorn, "You certainly know how to show a lady a good time, I must say!" She powers down her lightsaber.

Thorn lets out a breath. "Stang, Freyja," he says chuckling. "You're a braver one than most in the face of a Mandalorian."

Freyja looks interested, "Really? Howso?"

"Most of the people I've known who face down Mandalorians end up dead." He frowns. "But that's the first one I've seen in Hutt Space. Their fees are supposed to be exorbitant."

"Oh!" Freyja smiles calmly. "Well, I think it's mostly because we both realize the same thing -- death, per se, does not truly exist. We just change forms." She nods thoughtfully, gazing up and out into the sky, "Hai, a quarter of a million creds, or something like that." She looks back at Thorn, adding quietly, "I'm sorry you have one on you, Captain. I don't know what to tell you."

Thorn grins, not looking too worried. "Well, that just means I have to be a bit more careful -- and spend more time in space. Mandalorians have a hellacious reputation on the ground but I've yet to hear of them being more than average in space combat. We have enough tricks aboard the Rapier to make any boarder's life miserable." He casts a glance up to the still-faintly-buzzing hulk. "When it works, that is."

Freyja chuckles quietly, watching the enforcers bursting in and corralling the few remaining attackers. A second later she grins, looking back up at the Captain, "So... I don't suppose you have any other landspeeders? Wouldn't want to keep the majordomo waiting, after all."

Thorn looks mildly embarrassed. "Well, actually, we.... I'll see what I can come up with. I wasn't expecting our speeder to get shot up by a gank..."

Freyja grins lazily, patting his arm as she looks back at the former field of battle, "Why not just borrow one of the ones the enforcers arrived in?" She smiles at Vakkal as he rejoins them, brushing a singed bit of fur away, then mentally notifies her friends the battle is safely concluded -- and there was a Mandalorian! Quite interesting.

Thorn brightens a little. "I'm sure they can't say no...." Freyja chuckles quietly, tucking Kourikani away into her sleeve. Captain Thorn Falk commandeers a landspeeder, and the three of them whisk away to the keep, leaving the enforcers and the crew of the Rapier to clean up and bring the big ship up to speed again.

In stark contrast to the other times Freyja's visited, this time she and Thorn are escorted perfunctorily and without hesitation to a different part of the keep. This section is altogether nicer and more adapted to near-Human habitability, rather than Huttee aesthetics. In this particular suite Orfune's sensibilities seem to hold sway. Her day room is done reminiscent of traditional Ryloth styles, with near-petrified sandwood paneling, muslin upholstery, and almost no moisture whatsoever.

Freyja looks around in fascination, murmuring quietly to Thorn, "This is quite nice!" She curiously asks, "Do you have rooms here too? Are they as nice as these?"

Thorn nods. "Orfune has very fond memories of Ryloth before she was taken, from what she has told me." He grins. "At first, yes, I had a set of rooms. I ended up never using them, though, and I let Orfune give them to her chief facilitator."

Freyja looks curious, "'Taken'?" then horrified a second later, "She was kidnapped?! Oh, poor thing!" She pauses, then adds slowly, "Wait... this must have been years ago, mustn't it? By now, if she wanted to return... she would have, wouldn't she?"

Thorn nods cheerfully. "She's returned to Ryloth a few times actually, after she won her freedom. She prefers her current position, though I imagine she may retire to Ryloth -- if she ever retires, that is. Somehow I can't see her settling down on the shores of a desert sea."

Freyja says, "Oh, good... that's good to hear." She looks curious again, then, "A... desert sea... is it nice? Have you been?"

Thorn nods. "A few months ago I went to pick her up there when she visited there. It's... a very pretty world, but a bit brutal, not pretty in the same way Balmorra is. Lots of deserts, very little free water -- that's partly what lekku are for, actually: storing water and cooling the cranium. Anyway, it's a little brutal. The heat storms can wipe out whole towns. I saw some of the scarring they can cause people who are trapped out in them."

Freyja blinks slowly... then nods, "I see. I'd thought they were for communication... or are they used for that as well?" She tries, but simply can't imagine a storm so hot it would wipe out a town. Maybe it's like a whirling hurricane of fire? But if so... how could anything survive?

He nods. "Oh, they're used for that, too. But like everything else on Ryloth, they evolved to multiple purposes.

Freyja nods, sitting down carefully on what she thinks is either a couch, or a daybed. Then she leans back on her hands and smiles at Thorn, "So, who do you think is sending Mandalorians after you?" She's careful not to accidentally flash the poor man -- that'd be rude.

Thorn grimaces, shaking his head. "I don't know. I can think of lots of people who'd want me dead, but none of them can afford Mandalorians. Heck, nobody in Hutt Space can really afford the Mandalorians' rates, except for the big Hutt families deep in Hutt Space, like on Tatooine or Nar Shadda -- but none out here. And none that either Ameil or I have teed off."

Freyja says thoughtfully, "Well... who in Republic Space might be that angry with you, then?"

"We tried even harder to be nice and polite while in the Republic than we do out here." He thinks, then shakes his head. "The only thing I can think of is whomever got so annoyed at us for hitting that droid transport that they kicked us onto the sector's most-wanted list."

Freyja idly brushes her fingers back through her fiery gold hair, making sure her lovely lotus blossom is still firmly in place. Mandalorians or neh, she's still thrilled at that beautiful gift! She nods, "All right. That was my thought too, but I wanted to check with you first."

Shortly, the Twi'lek in question herself slips in through a side-door. "Ah, Freyja Makkaisdottir, Captain Thorn, I'm glad you could come." She smiles, a little warmer than usual. "I hope that, aside from the unsanctioned bounty hunter, your evening has gone well?"

Freyja crosses her legs and leans one elbow on her knee, thinking... then looks up, standing politely. She grins at Orfune's comment, "Hai, thank you... and thank you for the back-up as well." Her cheeks flush a slightly warmer gold as she adds, "And... thank you for your exquisite taste in clothing, honored majordomo. I, ah... never got much training in that, so wouldn't have known what to ask for."

Orfune smiles. "You're very welcome, Freyja. I was pleased when Captain Thorn asked for my help, and even more when I heard you had chosen the dress." She studies Freyja for a moment, nodding in satisfaction and smiling. "I'm sure you have broken more than a few hearts this evening. You wear it better than I could have even hoped."

Freyja blinks, a little startled, "Er... pardon?" She pauses, considering... even if she's realized she's pretty... still... can her just wearing a dress break a heart?! She gives Thorn a puzzled look, "Break hearts... do you think so? I mean... me?"

Thorn blinks to Freyja, then grins, "I think it's just an expression."

Freyja says, "Oh." She nods, not sure how that makes her feel... then smiles at the Twi'lek, "Thank you!" She pauses, considering, then says curiously, "Er... if I may ask, what were you hoping for?"

Orfune arches a brow a little. "Oh, yes. My apologies, Freyja. I meant only that you surely have caught the attention of more than just Captain Thorn this evening." She smiles, "And I was hoping only that you would like the dress, and that you would look well in it. You certainly exceeded that hope."

Freyja ahs, nodding... then blushes slightly, "Er... hai, I did finally notice that, when Vakkal pointed it out to me. I, um... haven't had a lot of experience with that..." Her voice trails off a bit uncertainly -- then she giggles in spite of herself, grinning at Thorn, "Hydro-spanners!'

Thorn coughs. "Yes, hydro-spanners. Dorn seems to have experienced Freyja's effect first-hand."

Orfune says wryly, "Oh, dear. I hope he survived the experience."

Freyja blushes, still grinning, then adds mischievously, "Pity it didn't work on the Mandalorian!"

Thorn says, "I'd be surprised if anything short of a thermal detonator worked on a Mandalorian."

Freyja grins, "Oh, reason worked... at least this time. All I've read and heard about them is that they're complete pragmatists when it comes to fulfilling contracts." She smiles a little shyly at the Twi'lek, adding, "So... may I ask when you wear such nice clothes? I don't have much opportunity to do so, myself... it's been a pleasure to get to do this without having to go through hours of agonizing preparation."

Orfune says quietly, "And rather more ruthless than given credit for." She smiles to Freyja. "I do not get the chance often, myself. Very occasionally there will be a formal dinner which requires more than just simple clothing." She glances wryly to Thorn. "Captain Thorn did mention typical Balmorran formal wear is... extensive. And about as difficult to don as battle armor."

Freyja rolls her eyes but just nods, "Hai. Not just the clothing, either... the makeup, the jewelry, the hair..." She grins mischievously, "I nearly caused apoplexy at home when I first turned up with a Padawan's hair cut!" She adds ruefully, "Now they stick me in wigs for formal affairs."

Orfune says, "One particular accoutrement my people seem to have managed to avoid. Thank the Maker."

Freyja giggles, then says a bit enviously, "Must be nice to not have to worry about that!" She tilts her head thoughtfully, then adds pragmatically, "Of course, I only have to worry about it when I'm visiting home." Her tone is cheerful, "Otherwise, my hair just sits there -- I don't bother it, and it doesn't bother me!"

Orfune says wryly, "Oh, that isn't to say we have our own... issues. There are apparently entire art forms devoted to the decoration and wearing of lekku."

Freyja blinks... then considers... then laughs, "I guess that would only make sense!" She curiously asks, "Is it class related where you hail from originally, like it is on Balmorra? Or... or is it something more... I don't know... age, or species, or maybe gender related?"

Orfune considers for a moment. "Well, on Ryloth, as opposed to where Twi'lek are... kept... it is partly class related, partly clan related. Some clans decorate their lekku, others not as much. Most have their own unique styles, however. What about on Balmorra, if I may ask? Are males as well as females made by custom to wear enough clothing to choke a bantha?"

Freyja blinks -- then laughs delightedly, "Oh, what a wonderful phrase! I'll have to remember it for my aunt-ele- er..." she bites down for a moment, then realizes there's nothing that will give her lineage away if they realize she's betrothed, "-for my aunt-elect, who also hates the dress-up rituals!" She grins, "Hai, there's really not that much difference in all that stuff for males or females -- all the jewelry, flowers, make-up, all that... it's a class thing usually." She considers, still smiling, then adds consideringly, "Well, that and which haus you're part of." She giggles, adding, "My aunt-elect's in the military forces... so formal civilian affairs are a real trial for her."

Orfune makes an intrigued sound. "Really? Do the upper class wear more, or less, than the lower class? I ask because you may be surprised at how, even on worlds a few light years apart, exactly the opposite standards might be held."

Freyja looks curious, "Er... the aristoi tend to spend more time worrying about that sort of thing, hai, than the kurasai do... but that's because they can afford, er..." she pauses, realizing she's just in effect said she's at the very least of a noble haus. A split second later she realizes there's nothing to be done for it -- if pressed, she can infer she's a paramour's child -- she finishes her sentence as smoothly as possible, "-well... hopefully it won't sound bad, but they can afford to hire people to do the fussing and primping for them?"

Orfune nods slowly. "Well," she says, smiling. "'Hiring' is better than not. And I imagine there are worse jobs to hold. Captain Thorn has told me some of what life on Balmorra may be like, but he has readily admitted to never having lived there."

Freyja looks momentarily puzzled -- then remembers this is a slave-owning culture. She winces slightly, hoping she didn't offend the Twi'lek.

Orfune tilts her head to the side, studying Freyja for a little, then smiles warmly and nods. "For what it is worth, Freyja Makkaisdottir, I approve of you very much. I do wish that you had taken up Ameil on her offer of employment here, but I understand why you cannot."

Freyja looks a bit surprised... then also smiles warmly, quite touched, "I... thank you, honored majordomo! I... don't know quite why you approve, but thank you very much." She gives a small, polite bow as she speaks... then grins curiously, "Ah... may I ask why?"

"Certainly you may. I have not made it a secret that I was taken from Ryloth at a young age, nor that it was a constant fight for many years to assert myself. Before then, however, I and another Twi'lek were pretty-things for a Human in a Republic client state. Ostensibly 'paid employees,' our 'salaries' were merely room and board: his room, and his board. In my time there, and afterwards, I have too often seen what attractiveness and good looks garner someone." She smiles. "To see such combined with a fighting spirit, an assertive personality, and the physical and emotional capability to figuratively hand someone their own head... is more rare than it perhaps should be. And rather a fascinating thing to watch when spotten."

Freyja's eyes widen slightly, shocked to hear of slavery, however prettied up and however distantly related, in the Republic. A moment later she blinks thoughtfully, internally curiously pleased at being called attractive and good-looking by the graceful Twi'lek.

"You may wonder why one such as I would condone slavery in this culture, when I rose from being a slave myself. There is a difference between the slaver who respects those indentured to him or her, and values them as who they are and what they are capable of... and the slaver who is little more than a peddler of flesh and playthings. I would not be working for Ameil if I did not feel the slaves kept by various owners in her territory were not accorded that respect. I acknowledge it is still slavery, but it is also integral to the economy of many worlds in Hutt Space, and at least here they are not disposable, or... playthings."

Freyja considers quietly for a few moments... then says simply, "This... is Hutt Space. My opinions on slavery aren't really relevant here, except as how they influenced my choice to support Ameil. As you noted, she takes care of her people... and I know from my time in the Republic, too, there are people who want to be taken care of."

She wishes internally she could argue the point more forcefully... but she's honest enough to admit to herself that, in some cases, there's not much difference between good aristoi and good slave owners. Bad versions of either, of course, should be disposed of... but that's not the case here. Instead she simply adds a little wistfully, "I... admit, it's my hope that cross-cultural fertilization will help make slavery redundant here. Hopefully something equally good will occur to the Republic, if such economic cross-referencing occurs."

Orfune nods. "That's true, there are," she says, a bit merrily. "Both of the two young males whom you may have noticed -- well... one, since the attack. Both of them were not sold but came into Ameil's service willingly." She adds dryly, "I can't say I've ever been disappointed they so chose. But be that as it may," she adds, glancing at Thorn, who is politely remaining quiet, "-we shall perhaps see. If the economic situation between Ameil and the Republic might change, such an institution might indeed no longer be of use."

Freyja blinks, a bit shocked in spite of herself, "Er... they came..." She remembers where she is, and bites off the end of that sentence abruptly, instead saying, "Excuse me, honored majordomo... none of my business." She takes a deep breath, then adds almost in reminder to herself -- or perhaps to convince herself? -- "Lots of paramours do that, hai...?"

Orfune says wryly, "That's quite all right. That was more or less my own reaction when I heard it."

Freyja blinks again... then bites her lip, her eyes dancing as she tries not to giggle at Orfune's comment! Then she grins cheerfully, "Well... if it helps any, I'm tremendously flattered at your words -- thank you!"

Orfune smiles. "You're very welcome, Freyja. Here, now. I should not keep you from the remainder of the evening, and I'm afraid I still have much to do. I wish you both a very pleasant -- and bounty-hunter-free -- evening." Freyja grins, bowing politely, then tucks her hand neatly into Thorn's arm again as he escorts her out.

Freyja cheerfully says to Thorn, once they're safely in the land-speeder again, "That was nice -- thank you! That was a side of majordomo Orfune I hadn't expected."

Thorn smiles, "You're welcome. Yes, that's part of why she's one of the best people to have on your side out here. Some people see only her features and think of her as just another pretty-thing; other see only her efficiency as Ameil's majordomo. She's a great deal more."

Freyja settles back in the passenger seat, crossing her legs and saying happily, "That's rather inspiring, really... if she can be pretty and efficient... maybe so can I!" She grins at Vakkal's quiet, dryly amused snort behind her, commenting cheerfully, "Oh, be nice! I've just realized the pretty part... I get at least a little time to marvel at it!" She giggles quietly to herself.

Thorn grins, "Of that, I have no doubt you're capable of, Freyja." He pauses, then asks, "You mentioned your aunt-elect. What can you tell about your betrothed? Or haven't you met him yet?"

"Oh." Freyja falls ruefully quiet, then simply says, "Well... I don't really know him. Um... he seems nice enough, though?" She considers, then adds quietly, "I worry sometimes how I'll balance Order and Haus. He has such faith in me... he's putting aside his dreams to run the Haus, so I can go be a Jedi." She sighs quietly, "I... hope he's never disappointed..."

Thorn politely changes the subject, and the evening progresses pleasantly for them both. A little later in the evening, the land-speeder pulls up to the Eclipse, and Thorn offers his arm to decorously help Freyja out of the vehicle. "Thank you, Freyja," he says warmly, "-for a wonderful time this evening."

Freyja beams with pleasure at the captain, pausing to stand at the foot of the ship's ramp, "Thank you, captain! I had a wonderful time, truly -- I've never had an evening out like this before!"

Thorn grins. "Hopefully not one quite like this ever again. A Mandalorian makes a poor choice for a dinner companion."

Freyja laughs! -then impulsively hugs the captain, "You silly... you know what I mean!" A moment later she pauses, her eyes dancing, "Er... you do, don't you?"

Thorn nods, laughing. "Yes, I do know. And I'm very glad I could help in whatever small way to make it an enjoyable evening for you." Vakkal pauses for a moment, then notes that he should really go in and get a quick shower before going to sleep. He and Thorn exchange salutations before the canid discreetly slips up the ramp.

Freyja beams again, still glowing with happiness, "It was, truly. Quite unique!" She thinks a moment, then smiles, "I hope we can stop by here again, on the way back... and maybe, if we're lucky, there'll be more contact between Hutt and Republic space." She grins a little shyly, "If... if that happens, and you ever end up on Balmorra, and I know about it... we could maybe look each other up?"

Thorn smiles. "If you do come back this way, I would very much like to see you again. And while it seems vanishingly impossible I'll ever be at Balmorra again... if I am ever there, I would like that as well."

Freyja smiles a little uncertainly, not quite sure what to do next... then simply grins and bids the captain a very pleasant goodnight, before turning to head up the gangplank. Once she's in the ship, and it's closed up again, she leans against one wall for a moment, giving a chuffing, happy sigh. Then she straightens, almost dancing into the common room, trilling in quiet joy to herself, arms raised as she whirls through a few dance steps. She's pretty! What a lovely discovery!

Deeper within the ship, in the commons, Freyja can hear Vakkal and Fhazil in one of their... 'discussions.'

"Say the wrong thing!"

"Oh... heh... uhm... no, really, Vakkal... you look... a-heh... uhm. You look good!"

"'Good.'"

"Oh, definitely! Very... very good!"

"'Good.'"

"What, you think I'm kidding?"

"'Good?'" Pause. "I look like a god!"

"Oh, so you were just trolling for compliments?"

"Naturally! Now I want to hear you say it."

"Say what-? Oooooh, no!"

"Come on, Fhazil!"

"Not for all the sapphire wine on Ziost!"

"'Vakkal looks better in a kilt than I ever will.' Say it."

"Death first!"

"Come on, you'll be begging for mercy well before that happened. Say it!"

"Just because I've actually worn one of those drafty bits of tailoring before...!"

"'Drafty?' 'Drafty'? Oh, I do not think you'll be saying that for very long." Pause. "Freyja? Are you back inside?"

Freyja almost floats into the room, still euphoric, "Haiiii, I am!" She beams at Fhazil, still blissfully unaware of the effect her full-wattage happiness has.

Vakkal has a grin on his face as Freyja enters. Fhazil is just turning to the doorway. "Oh! Hi, Freyja, how did-" and then he promptly falls to the floor for no particular reason.

Freyja gets a startled look, staring down at Fhazil, then gives Vakkal an accusing glance, "Did you just... trip him or something?!"

Vakkal himself looks surprised. "I'm impressed!" he says. "That's a much more entertaining reaction than I expected!"

Freyja blinks at Vakkal... then realizes that's her answer. She puts her hands on her hips and puzzledly asks Fhazil, "What are you doing?"

Fhazil manages to pull himself up, blinking to Freyja. "I... sorry, I must have... what was it... slipped! I must have slipped! Freyja?!"

Freyja says, "Hai." She tilts her head at Fhazil, still smiling puzzledly. "Are you all right?"

Fhazil coughs, then nods quickly. "I'm... fine, honest! Just surprised! You look... stunning!"

Freyja brightens, pirouetting around in glee, "Hai, that's what I discovered tonight -- isn't it wonderful? I realized -- I'm pretty!" She ends up at the end of her pirouette face-to-face with Fhazil, and loops her arms loosely about his shoulders as she happily asks, "Do you think I'm pretty?"

Fhazil seems pretty much entranced, even as Freyja drapes her arms around him. He swallows and nods quickly. "Yes... yes, I do, Freyja, and I always have..."

Freyja beams again, hugging him for a moment, "That's so nice!" She whirls away happily again, flopping gracefully onto the commons couch, and grins at Vakkal, still glowing, "He, of course, laughed when I realized it was true -- you fiend!" She giggles, obviously not worried at all about it -- then murmurs softly, "Oops...!" as she gently tugs her short dress to a slightly more decorous length.

Freyja beams at Fhazil again, patting the couch next to her, "It was the hydro-spanners, actually. Thorn's engineer dropped them when he looked at me... and it hit me it wasn't really possible to have organized that ahead..." she pauses, suddenly realizing -- Fhazil fell down! She blinks interestedly at the entranced Human, then smiles, "Aww! That's what you were doing too, hai?"

Vakkal grins merrily. "You have to admit it was a unique way of finding out."

Fhazil blinks as he sits down, then blushes deeply. "Well... ah, that was kind of a surprise to see you..."

Freyja giggles gleefully at Vakkal, "It was fun, hai! -and I realized it was when I was crossing my legs that he kept staring -- like this!" She cheerfully crosses her long, silk-clad legs, mischievously watching Fhazil as she does so.

Vakkal grins, "Yes, just about like that...."

Fhazil blinks at Freyja as she simply crosses her legs, and half-raises his hand as if to nearly instinctively touch her. Then he shakes his head to clear it, sighing a little as he grins wryly to Freyja. He shoots a glance to Vakkal. "Gee, I can't imagine why," he says, then smiles to Freyja. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Freyja laughs, smoothly rolling her legs under her to kneel next to Fhazil and hug him cheerfully about the neck, "Hai, I did -- I'm sorry! It's the first time I've ever done a tease, but I hoped you wouldn't mind!" She starts to sit back, then gets a thoughtful look, "Hm... well, the first deliberate one. Have I ever... oh!" Her cheeks turn a warmer gold as she sheepishly admits, "I tried once, several years ago, to see if I could do a tease I'd seen on holovid." She rolls her eyes amusedly, adding, "Big mistake! I didn't know how to, er... how to modulate the effect."

Fhazil deadpans, "Freyja, I don't think you can set legs to 'stun'...."

Freyja laughs delightedly, then shakes her head, "Ne-neh, it was a facial thing." She gets a thoughtful look, "I wonder if I can still do it..." She gets an intent look for a few seconds... then slowly turns her head to regard Fhazil. Her eyes have gone a deep smoky blue, intense and almost glowing, completely and utterly focused on the man she's looking at. With deliberation she slowly draws her tongue tip lightly over her lips, keeping her entire attention almost piercingly on Fhazil -- and then a second later she blinks, grins, and looks curious, "So -- did it work?"

Fhazil blinks, staring at Freyja, and makes a tiny sound. Vakkal's ears perk at it, and he says, "Easy, Freyja... I think you broke him..."

Freyja blinks again, glancing between Fhazil and Vakkal, then looks deeply embarrassed, "Oh... this is being mean, isn't it." She gently pats Fhazil's leg, "I'm sorry, Fhazil. I'm still learning this, so if you find it annoying you just tell me to please stop, all right?" She thinks for a moment -- she should change the subject, that's it. "So, um..." she gets a suddenly very hopeful look, "Umm... I don't suppose... you dance?"

Fhazil recovers, just barely, and coughs a little. "Nono, it's not annoying at all!" He purses his lips. "Erm, yes, but not really anything that'd be called formal. If you mean like dancing like how the Alderaanian houses do..."

Freyja bites her lip, her gaze still extremely hopeful, "Ahh... maybe like some of the Balmorran styles? Do you know any of that?" She pauses, then tilts her head and adds a little wistfully, "Or... if you don't, would you like to learn? Neither Vakkal nor Zero dance, alas. Captain Thorn does, and very nicely... but he's not coming with us!"

Fhazil shakes his head, "I don't know that style, but sure, I'd like to learn."

Freyja lights up happily again, "Really!? Oh, wonderful!" She bounces to her feet, reaching to take his hand, her words almost tumbling together, and tugs gently on his hand with both hers, "Want to learn now? It's been such a lovely night so far -- I've never had a courting before! -and I'd really like to dance with you if you wanted to, maybe, please?"

Fhazil looks a bit dizzy at the words that spill from Freyja. "Uhm... sure, whenever you would like, I'm not going anywhere...."

Freyja lights up again, her eyes sparkling, "Wondrous!" She pulls her medkit and datapad from her sleeve, tossing them to the just-vacated couch, and calls, "Datapad, voice activation, random Balmorran waltz selection set low volume!" then steps forward to proper dancing distance from Fhazil. Happily she explains where hands and feet go, as the music swells in liquid rills behind them. Vakkal could probably tell her, were he so inclined, that her closeness and warmth is far more likely to have an impact on Fhazil... than her words. She, of course, is oblivious.

Fhazil blinks and tries to keep up with Freyja's instructions. He notes early on that the Sith do have a waltz-like dance but it might not be as close as the waltz. At some point, though, he can't keep up with the overwhelming of his senses, and his steps falter a little bit. He sighs a little, smiling wanly to Freyja as he gently takes her hands. "Freyja," he says, "I'm sorry; everything about you is so wonderfully distracting... your touch, your scent, your warmth... I am almost overcome with that alone..."

He shakes his head. "I... I really would love to continue, Freyja. I just don't know what to say; I just...." Words fail him and he shakes his head, smiling a little. He steps forward to gently put his arms around her again, closing his eyes as he holds Freyja closely and warmly, resting his cheek lightly beside her head.

Freyja blinks up at Fhazil in a bit of startlement, taken aback by his confession -- it simply never occurred to her that she might be that distracting. True, she knows she's pretty, but still...! She blinks again, a little stiff as Fhazil slides his arms around her again... but when he doesn't do anything startling, she starts to relax a bit. The small realization trickles through her mind, he sure feels nice... she takes a slow breath, then cautiously slides her arms up to rest her hands on his shoulders, "Umm... well... we could just... just sway a little to the music, if you wanted?" Fhazil smiles quietly and nods, following her lead.

Freyja takes a careful, deep breath... then starts swaying carefully to the music. As Fhazil doesn't seem to mind, she starts to loosen up, her arms slowly sliding to loop loosely about his shoulders. The music is as dreamy, fluid, and drifting as her thoughts... she turns her head slightly, accidentally nuzzling softly as she sniffs, trying to see if she can catch Fhazil's scent and see what's so intoxicating about scents... he feels very nice... close and steady... Her breath is soft and warm against his skin, and her own skin feels strangely tingly, even where it's bare... although the silken dress and stockings feel very nice too...

Freyja doesn't realize how much time has passed, since Fhazil's not complained... but she does know she feels almost light-headed, and like her skin were being caressed with feathers... she whispers the first thought that slides into her mind, "Fhazil... why do you never come sleep with Vakkal and I? Don't you like cuddling?"

Fhazil makes a quiet, inquisitive sound. "I... would," he says quietly. "I just was worried about what I might do in my sleep."

Freyja's breath is warm against Fhazil's neck, and she sounds faintly puzzled, "Pardon? Do you... kick or something?"

Fhazil shakes his head. "Not really kick. Just if my hands should wander while I was asleep; that's all."

Freyja lifts her head enough to look Fhazil in the face, "Wander?" She smiles a bit confusedly, "So... tell them not to, silly!"

Fhazil blinks, then laughs quietly, reaching up to gently brush a stray lock of her hair from her face. "I promise, I'll do my best."

Freyja blinks at the hand near her face... then smiles thoughtfully, turning her head slightly so his fingers brush lightly against her skin for a moment. Still gently swaying with the music, leaning against him, she murmurs, "Does that mean you'd like to snuggle with us, then?"

Fhazil nods quietly, smiling. "I would, yes, please."

Freyja sighs happily, leaning her head back against his and continuing the gentle swaying dance. "That'd be nice..."

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Last modified: 2002-Jul-16 16:14:54

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