Some Bird of Paradise

[Barton Henning]

Saffia, Serenno.

“Keep quiet, and follow my lead.”

Simple enough words, but they were all the orders given by Barton Henning, captain of the Knightfall, as his crew disembarked at the private space-port of their client for the day. Although barely a matter of weeks had passed by since the crew had joined the Jedi convoy (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=19611) known as the Wheel, their vessel remained a part of the Alliance Support Services.

Most of their work was involved with shuttling food and supplies between garrisons, but it seemed on this particular occasion they had been given a more precious cargo. At least, that was the only reason Barton could come up with for why they were all standing in a hangar bay full of sleek, top of the line shuttles. The Knightfall's blaster-scored hull looked like a rusty nail forced into the rows of highly-polished metal.

Some of the crew would be remaining behind on board, but they had all expressed an interest in at least setting eyes on their benefactor for the day. Thus, they now waited beside it's boarding ramp, a hover-sled full of (unknown) cargo within reach. At least one amongst them would accompany Henning, if the client wanted to discuss matters of payment elsewhere. With a sigh and a restless glance about the noiseless port, Barton shook his head. Something about all of this wealth... it unsettled him, reminded him too much of the flawless spires of Coruscant.

The sooner they left Serenno, the better.

[Naadia Demici]

''My lady, the merchants have arrived.'' a voice bellowed from the shadows, addressing the white cloaked figure that stood by a large arched window.

''Send them in.'' Naadia retorted simply, her eyes still settled on the horizon where the golden orb of Serenno Prime plummeted into the vast expanse of the Ocean, perfectly still, oily surface reflecting radiance as far as the eye can see. With a longing look, The Countess of Serenno gazed into the distance, as if searching for something. But there was nothing there but the sea; no island, no land, no port in which a tired soul could dock. Her thoughts diverged in a thousand directions - from her mother that lived in a convent on Tholoth to just a few thousand miles north, to the domain of the Nalju.

Fleshy lips stretched into a thin line when she recalled of a certain recent acquaintance, the mere musings over this particular subject making her feel caged and crippled, like a whisper bird with broken wings. No matter how exalted, the burden of aristocracy was mainly in the caste shackles in which Naadia was born; even a thought of a commoner was to be condemned, forbidden and unimaginable for a woman of her status and heritage. Her solitude only amplified her brooding, overtaking her being when she retreated to her literary work.

It was only when the hiss of the door sounded that the brunette let go of her inertia driven trail of thought; despite a presence that was to be felt, she remained stoic in her place, large hood shading her fine features from any visitors that were to approach from behind.

''Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all powders of the merchant?'' the bronze skinned woman inquired in a reverberant voice, white cloak slightly flagging behind in the light breeze that streamed in through the now opened window.

[Cleo Némain]

Keeping quiet wasn't really something Cleo did so grand. But Captain said so and so she did, but it came with an abundance of fidgeting and tugging on the ends of the sleeves of the slightly tattered coat and comparing her height with everyone else around as she stuck around to go be with the cargo and the Captain as they were presented to...whoever.

In the end she lost the battle of the silent tongue. She probably could have won it, probably. But then that really fancy lady had to go and speak up all...oddly.

Though, to Cleo's credit she did manage to keep it down to a whisper that was directed at Captain Barty only. She wanted to cup a hand over his ear to make it even harder for anyone else to hear, but standing right just about five feet tall made anything like that a pain unless you went to the tippytoes and she didn't want to look all sorts of odd in front of the richies. "Kinna strangeish Chowbaso, innit? You gots any sorta idea bouts tha heck she said?"

[Barton Henning]

The galaxy was conspiring against Barton, it seemed – conspiring to make certain that this meeting would be about as easy to unravel as a womp rat king. With a sidelong glance at Cleo, the Doctor gave a shrug and shot the girl a look that said it was better they didn't ask. The wealthy could be as eccentric as they wanted, so long as they were good on their word when it came time to pay for whatever service was being provided. Clearing his throat, Barton offered introductions for himself and the girl at his side, the two of them the only liaisons between the ship and its benefactor, whose face remained obscured by a large hood.

“Captain Henning of the Knightfall, and this is my associate Miss Némain. We're here on behalf of the Alliance, ma'am. We have some.. cargo that you ordered.”

[Naadia Demici]

Naadia noted the indicative response of the petite woman that accompanied the man, producing a kind smile instead of a stuck-up snort one would expect from royalty. Not everybody had access to finest education or special instructors who extensively taught protocol and codes of conduct appropriate for her social level; despite her classy upbringing, the bronze skinned woman regarded every being as equal even if they, by some convention, weren't.

With one versatile flip of her wrist, the hood of her cape slipped off her head, revealing a large bun arranged on the back of her head, strands of hair arranged into a vine-like structure. Picking up a small burner from the opened drawer of the massive wooden table that dominated the study room, she made her way to a large candlestick positioned by the window where twenty six white candles waited to be ignited. With almost inexhaustible patience, the countess lit one by one and soon enough, the entire chamber bathed in supple luminescence.

''I will love the light for it shows me the way. Yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars...'' she said quietly, more to herself than anybody else. For the shortest of moments, her gaze was fixed on the candlestick, flickering flames mirrored in her dark eyes. Only then did Naadia turn to her guests, a graceful bow following.

''I am Naadia Demici the Third, Countess of Serenno. But you already know this, I am sure. Please, take a seat, Captain Henning and Miss Némain. And yes, I have asked for assistance from the Alliance regarding a beloved painting that has been taken from us some time ago... Mygeeto Burns (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Mygeeto_Burns). Do you have it?'' she inquired, descending to take a seat at the other side of the table, just opposite of the two.

[Barton Henning]

The hover-sled they had escorted into the room carried cargo that was simply box-shaped. Exactly what was inside had remained a mystery to Barton and his crew, though some of them had taken to speculating on its nature a great deal after discovering it was rather discreetly labeled 'fragile'.

“This is what we were tasked with delivering,” Henning said, opting for a fairly neutral reply as he nodded towards the crate. “It's not our business to know what it is.”

[Cleo Némain]

The candle lighting business had made her all kinds of uncomfortable. Because it all looked oh so important and all she wanted to do was not stand still and watch the lady go about doing it and then she went off rambling off her name which Cleo swore took just as long as for her to make all the fire happen.

But big names usually meant big importance and she was with Captain Barty and that meant best behavior. Ew. So she didn't speak up but let her head nod a teensy tiny bit after the Captain had gone and told the long-named-lady what was what.