Birthday Bash

[Iota Valar]

A tall glass decorated with a light blue umbrella slid across the counter,filled to the brim with a cocktail popularly called Supernova (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Supernova_(drink)).
''Thank you.'' said the Wroonian cadet, nodding to the bartender. She picked up the glass, swirling the translucent liquid inside.
''It's my birthday today.'' she stated, not quite sure why there was a need of sharing that particular piece of information with the staff of the Ison Lounge. Perhaps it was easier to be sincere with a complete stranger, especially if they were alien as well. Bartenders usually heard their deal of stories and secrets when people blurted everything out under the influence of alcohol, their ability to listen to listen tipped far more often then prowess in mixing drinks.

''Oh really?'' asked the Mirialan bartender as he polished a glass, then slid it between two metal hangers to suspend it over the bar - ''How old are you?''
''Nineteen today.'' Iota exclaimed proudly upon peeling her lips off the rim of the glass. The olive skinned man glanced to the side, then lifted a curious brow.
''And you celebrating all alone? Where are your friends?'' he inquired, noting she came through the door of the lounge alone almost an hour ago.
''They were supposed to be here by now.'' Valar admitted dolefully, looking sadly to the entrance - ''I'm sure there was some unforeseen delay and that they'll be here in no time!''
Iota had invited all of her classmates, but none of them turned up, not even those who bothered to sit next to her while dining in the cafeteria. A wistful sigh escaped her blue lips as the Wroonian sulked in the tall chair, seeming even tinier than she was.

[Hurst Falco]

"And the second time we kicked the door in, this lady was up on the table on her knees, ass in his face, and I mean letting that thing go."

Falco leaned at the corner table conspiratorily over his beer with a smirk as he told a tale of a recent day on the beat.

"The guy turns around, and asks us if we can wait five minutes! Hah, I shit you not."

He tipped back his beer, wiping his upper lip with his thumb as he set the pint back down.

"Some Twi'Lek trim, ehh about the color of that faggot drink that Markie's drinking right there. Anyway, that's no ass, it's a space station."

He chuckled through a sneer as the rest of the table erupted into hoots.

"Redd over here tells me we ain't due back at the fort for another half hour, so what's the fuckin' hurry already? I mean, right? Let that shit work. So, we let it work. The motherfucker's dead to rights anyways, and knows we're gonna put the boots to him, so he wants to get his rocks off before we fuck his shit, why not?"

He pointed to Redd, waggling his eyebrows conspiratorily.

"That's the man with the plan. Tell 'em about that ass, you know!"

[Redd Bantha-Horn]

Redd, grinning, was on his sixth bottle of Dressellian beer, the cheapest and foulest smelling beer that The Ison Lounge had to offer. “Thing is, guy wasn't plannin' on playin' to an audience. So me and Hurst's standing over the two've 'em, and Hurst he's got this look on his face like: well, when's this damn show gonna start? Dren-head can't get it up, looks like he's got a mother-frakkin' midget nerf sausage danglin' b'tween his legs!”

He laughed, like the bray of a Tusken Raider. “He's rammin' away but the tail-head looks like she's gonna fall asleep so I says -” Redd gestured the beer bottle widely around the table - “Now look here, dren-head, someone's gotta give this bitch a seein' to and it ain't gonna be you and that tiny pork-sword a'yours. Step aside and let a real man get this job done.”

[Iota Valar]

As minutes passed by, Iota grew sadder and sadder. Not a single person out of her hundred and twenty class mates had even bothered to reply to her invitation, let alone appear in the lounge.
It's never the world's fault. You are the only person to blame.
Her flight instructor's words echoed in her ears, reminding her how alone she was. Many nights were spent crying, curled up in that minute bunk-bed of her cabin. Why couldn't anybody see past her azure skin and those large, luminescent golden eyes?

Hopping off her seat, Valar opted to take one final look down the corridor that lead to the bar, before finishing her drink and heading back to the suite her father rented in The Holiday Towers. One little tiny peek, just in case somebody did show up in the end.
The petite girl meandered between officers, accidentally slamming into one. A drink was spilled over a perfectly ironed uniform, instigating a loathing frown.
''I'm so sorry, sir.'' she apologized, pleadingly looking up at the man she stained. Her blue hands were placed on his chest instinctively, trying to wipe excess liquid off.
''Hands off, you blue harlot.'' he hissed through his teeth, scowling at the petite being now trembling before him.

[Hurst Falco]

"Easy now, easy!"

Hurst bolted up from the table, putting a damper on the other officer's soiled mood. He placed a hand on Redd's shoulder as he stepped away from the corner, in an unsaid Keep on me, I've got a plan sort of way.

"That's no way to talk to a lady."

Falco looked at the man, a Lieutenant by the cut of him, with a shake of his head.

"She ain't no la-"

Falco cut him off with another shake of his head.

"I know how much you pay for dry cleaning - jack shit. Pass it off to company quartermasters, pick it up tomorrow. Don't go talking down this pretty girl on her birthday, how about that?"

The LT didn't really have anything to say to that, especially when catching the cut of Falco's captain insignia.

"Yes sir."

Falco looked down at his pips with derision.

"Don't call me sir, we're both off duty. Just work on not being a dick just because you get a drink down your front."

[Redd Bantha-Horn]

Looming over Hurst's shoulder, Redd eyed the uniform up with a lop-sided sneer that was all teeth. He jerked a thumb towards the bar door.

“Make like a good toy soldier and march your ass outta here, 'fore one of us drags it out.”

[Iota Valar]

Without another word, the man left the premises of the Ison Lounge to search for entertainment elsewhere. Seemingly, threats needed not to be repeated. Iota found herself surrounded by two males who were kind enough to protect her from the wraith of the speciecist officer.

''Thank you, good sirs.'' she uttered quiescently upon peering up at the bald man, then diverting her gaze to his scruffy-looking friend.
''But it was entirely my fault. I should really watch where I walk...'' said Valar, still disheartened by her colleagues not showing up for her birthday celebration. Nevertheless, she graced both officers with a kind smile, soft and supple as that of a child. Amber eyes glistened under the dimmed lights, her face a visage of unspoiled youth.
''I guess I'm not too easily spotted'' Iota added, shying away ''...perhaps I should remain out of the way in the future.''

[Hurst Falco]

Hurst struggled to keep a straight face at this mousy little blueberry going off on some 'woe is me' tangent. He had to wonder, with a mindset like that, how long she'd last in the military, which already didn't think all that much about aliens to begin with. Still, she was here, and honestly, she looked pretty damn good.

"You said its your birthday, right Cadet? You got a name?"

[Redd Bantha-Horn]

Redd wasn't much for aliens, but there were a certain kind he could tolerate. Quiet, obedient and generally with the body of an galactic gymnast. So far, blue was ticking all of the boxes.

[Iota Valar]

"Nineteenth, sir." the Wroonian replied with an affirmative head-shake, golden eyes peering up at Falco. There was something intimidating in him; was it his baldness or just that icy cold stare, Valar could not tell. Pursing her lips, Iota pondered whether to salute him or not. It felt kind of ridiculous to do so in the middle of a bar, in an atmosphere far from formal. Instead, she just smiled sweetly, hands clasping behind her back.

"I'm Iota Valar, sir." the blue-skinned girl introduced herself and bowed slightly in deference.

[Hurst Falco]

"Good, I didn't want to be calling you 'Cadet' all night."

Cracking wise, the Imperial Captain gestured to their table, inviting the girl to sit with his group.

"Call me Hurst. This buck-and-a-half lump of dewback to my left is Redd. As long as we've both got pints in our hands, neither of us are 'Sir'."

Sitting down, Falco returned to his own drink, as he watched the others come back to the table.

"Take a load off and stay awhile, Iota. What's that fancy bit of rainbow you were drinking on before? Have another on me."

[Redd Bantha-Horn]

“Where you from, Iota?”

Redd didn't pronounced the girl's name right. Born and bred on a Tatooine farm, he wasn't from the kind of society where people were called Iota. Buck, Luke, Dirk – these were names he was familiar with, comfortable with. Nothing with too many needless vowels.