A Lot At Steak

[Adonis Inirial]

It was just dinner.

Granted, it was dinner with his sister, who he'd seldom seen since they had mutually discovered that the other was still alive. Yes, they had interacted, yes they had been in some of the same meetings and briefings, yes they had passed each other in corridors and grabbed caf in the mess; but this was something else. This was effort. This was deliberately setting aside a time, in advance, to sit and talk and interact with each other like a family.

And yes, there was more to it than just that. It wasn't just bother and sister; it was elder brother, younger sister, and the man who, Adonis presumed, had been carrying out boarding operations without the proper authorisation from Carré's CO. And okay, so maybe the CO of that analogy was the patriarch of House Inirial, and maybe thanks to the Empire the only person that could possibly be was him, even if he did feel like Admiral Tyree would be a far more appropriate intimidating father figure for this sort of situation. But then Perris knew Tyree; hell, Perris was Tyree's gods-damned XO.

But it was just dinner. The fact that Carré's big brother was "meeting" her new man was a formality; it wasn't like they were meeting to discuss a marriage proposal or anything like that.

Oh gods, what if they were meeting to discuss a marriage proposal?

Adonis forced himself to be calm, drawing a slow breath into his lungs and holding it there, threatening his body with suffocation if it didn't cut out this infantile anxiety business. He was an Intelligence Officer, for Force's sake. He was Commander Adonis Inirial, of the Office of Naval Intelligence. He had strategised war efforts. He had coordinated missions of vital importance. He had issued orders that had caused men to risk, and lose, their lives. He knew many of the Alliance's deepest, darkest secrets. He could handle this. He would handle this.

His eyes swept around the restaurant. Attached mostly to Fleet Command back on Dac, he had spent very little time here on Bothawui. Perhaps that was the best, given how riddled with politics Bothawui was these days: but it was the little differences that stuck out in his mind. Bothawui had grass that you could walk on: vast open tracts of lands that you could just exist in, that were about as far removed from the oceanic landscape of the Mon Calamari homeworld as you could get, short of Tatooine or Geonosis. The buildings here climbed upwards, tall spiring structures with clean architectural lines; on Dac there were sweeping curves and looping corridors as buildings delved downwards into the oceanic depths.

But perhaps most differently of all was the cuisine. In times such as this, when every spare scrap of food was funnelled into supplying refugee colonies and cultivating money from trade, most worlds erred towards what was readily available: basic mass-produced foodstuffs that you could find anywhere, augmented by whatever was available locally. On Dac, local availability meant seafood and oceanic plant life, in every permutation imaginable. On Bothawui, that meant steak.

It was no surprise really, when you thought about it. The Bothans were a canine species, evolved on a world with wide open plains rife with herd animals. As Adonis had arrived via shuttle, he'd seen some of them moving about the grasslands a few miles beyond the city: native creatures, and imported species, cultivated for local consumption and for exports to other worlds; the Bothan Sector was, he remembered from a particularly dry set of statistics he'd read, one of the Alliance's greatest agricultural suppliers; if you ate steak in the Alliance, it was probably Bothan.

Of course, finding a steakhouse on Bothawui that was tailored towards offworld clientele was harder than you'd think. Bothan biology was evolved to consume meat raw if needed, and while restaurants that catered for such things were great if you were a Cizerack or a Trandoshan, it could often disagree with the softer sensibilities and digestive tracts of Humans. Most of the restaurants that were offworlder-friendly were aimed at the military crowd: cheap, quick, and reliable. Enticing as a juicy bantha burger with a side of freisian fries was for a man trapped on an involuntary seafood diet, it was hardly the sort of venue for this kind of dinner.

So here they were, in one of the fanciest restaurants in the Senate District of Drev'starn. The tables around them were filled with politicians, senators, ambassadors, admirals, wealthy businessmen: the Alliance's social elite, as far as having the disposable income to spend on fancy food was concerned.

And then here was he, some kid from Alderaan. Lord Inirial, his subconscious pointed out, almost mockingly.

He sighed, slumping a little in his chair. He shouldn't be doing this. Dad should have been here to do this, not drifting around the Alderaan system as a cloud of disassociated atoms. His mother. His brothers. His family. All gone, save for he and Carré. He wasn't ungrateful in the slightest, but Carré? She deserved better; she deserved more than he was able to provide.

Idly, he fidgeted with one of the half dozen sets of cutlery arrayed next to his place setting, his eyes straying in the direction of the entrance.

Come on, Carré. Where are you?

[Carré Inirial]

Blinking, she stared up at the medical officer, then back down at the datapad clutched in her suddenly trembling fingers. "You're absolutely certain? There's no possibility of a mistake?" Carré asked, voice clinging to the same final thread of hope she could muster.

"I'm positive. We ran the test three times to be sure. We'll be forwarding the official documentation to Flight Command-"

"Can you delay that a few hours? I...there's someone I have to talk to first." she said hollowly.

"-sure. We can delay the transmission a bit. But no more than a few hours."

-----------

The woman who could wade into a fistfight in lieu of an introduction, who survived serving the Empire and then the Rebellion as a fighter pilot, couldn't utter a few simple words. She took the coward's way out, pleading a headache upon her return to the temporary quarters she was sharing with Kelly while on Bothawui. She curled up on their bed and huddled beneath the covers for a nap. Sleep, however, proved as elusive as her courage, leaving her to actually engender the headache she'd claimed. Thoughts chased themselves themselves in circles and ended up a royally tangled mess.

Much like her life right at that moment.

Carré sighed as she gave up trying to think and simply laid there, thinking of absolutely nothing at all until her alarm rang. Forcing herself up, she stretched, and cast a critical glance at her reflection in the mirror. She took the time to indulge in the luxury of a bath, soaking in the hot water until she at least felt somewhat like herself again, and emerged scented like her favorite Ithorian orchids.

Her chestnut curls were dried and pinned up neatly, with a touch of kohl around her eyes and gloss for her lips as finishing touches. Fingers adjusted the golden straps of her vine-silk dress (http://oi57.tinypic.com/24fe93d.jpg), her stiletto clad feet barely visible beneath the hem of the dress. Glancing up at the chrono on the wall, she hoped Kelly was on his way back from his meeting, otherwise, he'd not have time to shower and change...and she didn't want to keep Adonis waiting.

Good gods, never mind Kelly...how was she supposed to tell her brother? He didn't even know they were engaged.

Dinner was looking like less and less of a good idea with every passing moment.

[Kelly Perris]

The adjustment period didn't seem to exist. It was as if in one minute he was in the cockpit, flying an X-Wing and in the next minute, had traded his flight suit in for regular officer's duds, and was flying a desk - and all the while, Tyree was taking some perverse glee in it, and of that he could not be more certain. These meetings? He had to admit he was a little out of his depth, being they weren't Rogues he was meeting with, and these were far, far from war briefings, but there was nothing for it. The landscape had changed, and there was no real place for the likes of him as an active duty pilot, anymore. He wasn't the only one to grumble, but he was one of the few to grin and bear it, even if he didn't have a solid, personal reason to accept it, outside of duty. It was what it was. And right now, if he didn't haul ass, he was... they were going to be late.

Kelly came rushing through the door to the temporary quarters he shared with his fiancée, tossed his attaché case on the floor, kicked one foot back to shut the door behind him, and proceeded to disrobe himself on the way to the 'fresher. Uniform jacket went flying into a heap on a nearby chair, tie loosened and sent in the opposite direction, to... wherever. Belt was loosened and buttons were hastily unbuttoned, moving to a quick divestiture of shirt that landed in a crumple on the floor, and trousers that were awkwardly shimmy-stepped out of as he neared the 'fresher door. One palm on the wall to the left of the entry, and he was freed of boxer-briefs and socks, after which he disappeared into the 'fresher, bare ass and all.

For at least a minute, at any rate. Then he came rushing right back out, like a heatseeker in his utterly naked glory, to find Miss Inirial... and when he did, there were no words, but taking that gorgeous woman in his arms and pouring everything into a long, deep kiss that would have knocked socks off, if either of them were wearing any. With the kiss broken, only then were there words.

"I can't wait to peel you out of that dress, later," and with another quick peck, he turned heel, and went to get clean, only saying one more thing over his shoulder as he disappeared once again, "Could you pick something out for me? Something tells me no-one will appreciate my showing up in the buff."

And with that, the shower was on, and time continued to tick on by.

[Carré Inirial]

It left her breathless, that kiss. The way it always did when he poured so much emotion into it that it left her unable to think of anything else.

By all the gods she'd ever heard of, she loved him...Carré blinked back a sudden rush of emotion, thankful he was already back in the shower. She didn't even have the time to enjoy his...glorious state of undress.

Mercifully, though her mind was spinning in marvelously complicated circles, she did as he'd requested. Steps carried her to their closet, where slender fingers forgot to tremble as they coursed over the options available. His dress uniform was appropriate for the setting, but they were meeting Adonis as family, not in an official capacity. A well-tailored suit (http://www.michaelshanks-online.com/images/tvseries/savinghope/promos/savinghope_014.jpg) would do nicely, choosing the one she'd just had made for him through an order to Okar the Fabulous' local boutique. Fingers smoothed out the soft fabric, laying it out for him to change into as soon as he was ready.

A quick glance to the chrono told her they would have to hurry...her brother was always on time. Carré breathed deeply but the exhalation emerged as a worried sigh. This was going to disappoint him. She hadn't exactly gone about things in a traditionally proper manner...

She perched on the arm of the chair by the large window, losing herself in thought as she gazed out and drew her shawl up over her shoulders.

[Kelly Perris]

By virtue of short hair and years upon years of showers whittled down to a fraction of time that denoted the act as more of an art than necessity, he was in and out faster than the time it'd taken Vansen to shore up some irritation and deliver a few biting remarks in his direction back during their time with the since-disbanded Wheel convoy. He came swiftly out of the fresher and directly to the bed where a suit had been laid out for him, and stood with an eye on the lovely form of his fiancée as he took another handful of seconds to finish toweling off.

"This new, sweetheart?" He queried, tossing the towel over the same chair that had taken his uniform jacket, and jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the suit as he padded over to a dresser to pull out a pair of boxer-briefs and a dark pair of socks. "How much time we have?"

Quickly, he moved back over to the bed to slip into the newly retrieved items before starting on the suit, which from a look he could tell he liked, and if it was brought in by her... it had very little chance of not appealing to her eye. Which was the whole point. Well, almost. He had not a single doubt in his mind that she'd take him naked as often as possible, and that this was largely for those that would prefer otherwise.

[Carré Inirial]

"Hmm?"

Carré blinked and came back to the present, suddenly realizing her hands had been lingering over her abdomen. Swallowing hard, she rose to her feet and turned, smoothing out the silk of her dress in a practiced motion. Her lips curved up into a small smile as she nodded. "It is...thought you might need something for occasions like this. Can't always be flightsuits and uniforms."

Careful steps took her to his side as he finished dressing, fingers lifting to smooth out the lapels of the jacket and delicately settle the collar in place. A delicate filigree ring glittered on her left hand, the gems refracting the light across the sleek, dark fabric. "We are dangerously close to being late...and frankly, if I know my brother, and I do, he's already there. In fact, if he hasn't eaten an entire basket of breadsticks and had his water glass refilled three times, I'll be disappointed."

Shifting back slightly, she adjusted her shawl and picked up her purse fingers clasping over it tightly, a gesture she sincerely hoped he didn't catch. With any luck, he'd simply chalk it up to nerves about meeting her brother for a family dinner. And needing to tell said brother about their engagement. And the pregnancy.

This...was not going to end well.

***

Though they had made a concerted effort, the speeder traffic in the district where the restaurant was had been terrible as usual. They ended up several minutes late, and Carré winced slightly as they stepped through the elegant glass entryway and into the main dining room of the establishment. Emerald eyes cast around the space as the maître d' greeted them, and gestured for them to follow upon hearing their names.

"Adonis! You look wonderful..." she said brightly, stepping over to embrace her brother lightly. "...I'm very sorry we've kept you waiting."

[Adonis Inirial]

Oh thank the gods.

Alderaan may have been destroyed, but clearly it's deities were still answering prayers; some of them at least. As the wait had drawn on, Adonis had become increasingly uncomfortable, increasingly wary of how exposed he was. This table was the one he had been allocated by the staff, but the more he observed, the more questionable it's strategic safety was. There were too many sight-lines from the windows, too much opportunity for sniper fire and not enough reliable cover in quick proximity. It didn't help that the patrons on other tables had been acting in a decidedly suspicious manner: more a matter of infidelity, of men trying to conceal their marital status from the young women they'd brought with them, of elderly relatives trying to conceal illnesses until after the third course, relying on dessert to soften the bad news, and not so much an actual life-or-death threat posed to him, but you never knew; any of them could easily be an adulterous assassin, who felt more guilty about cheating on his wife than about murder.

Adonis rose to his feet the moment he saw them, as was proper for a well-schooled son of Alderaani decorum and protocol. He tried his utmost to adopt the civil and formal expression and poise that his father had taught, but the sound of his name in his sister's voice, uttered with such genuine joy, shattered the facade and brought an easy smile to his lips. "Don't worry, I haven't been here long," he lied, letting Carré's polite embrace linger just long enough to become a gently affectionate one. As he drew away, his expression shifted, adopting a curious frown as he regarded her. "Something seems different," he said, letting his words cover for him as his eyes quickly swept Carré's neckline and the length of her arms, checking for any ostentatious jewelry that had not been there previously. No ring, no promise pendant, no nothing to signify betrothal in any culture he was aware of. That was good news, at least.

Still, his quizzical expression, and his gut instinct persisted. "Did you change your hair? Did you shrink a little since last time I saw you?" He let his expression collapse into a genuine grin, a knowing wag of his finger. "It's the shrinking thing, like when you were seven and you stayed in the bath for too long."

[Carré Inirial]

She did have an excellent pazaak face, and her ability to keep her cool was legendary...but in the span of a breath, her big brother managed to utterly and completely embarrass her. Her head dipped and she blushed a brilliant red as she swatted at his arm. "Dammit, Adonis! You were never supposed to mention That Incident again! Honestly..." she spluttered, choosing to focus on her purse and it's suddenly fascinating beadwork instead of looking up at either of the men around her.

"...I nearly sprained my ankle just trying to climb onto the couch." Carré muttered and managed a smile in spite of herself as she gently shook her head.

Glancing up at Kelly, she lofted a brow. "Don't even ask...it's a horribly embarrassing story about how merciless and ruthless six boys can be to their poor little sister."

[Adonis Inirial]

Adonis' smile persisted, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes as his gaze abandoned his sister and turned to her companion. "She stayed in the bath for four hours and refused to get out when Dad told her to, so he had us brothers go through the residential wing of the house and make everything a few inches taller, so we could convince Rey that she had shrunk in the wash."

He offered a shrug, before throwing a sidelong wink at his sister. "Intelligence officer," he offered, by way of an off-hand explanation. "I have an obligation to warn this poor pilot of the kind of gullible mess he's getting himself into, so that he's got the chance to bug out if he needs to, before it's too late."

And there it was, this poor pilot.

It wasn't the first time that Adonis and Kelly had met, officially speaking. Their mutual service alongside Vansen Tyree and aboard the Challenger had overlapped enough that they'd encountered each other before, but a few cordial nods and the odd comment across a briefing table didn't really constitute meeting someone, especially not when the someone in question was a pilot with designs on making himself at home in your baby sister's cockpit. This should have been their father's responsibility, or at worst it should have been Pharos, but instead it was Adonis in this unenviable situation, torn between a desire for his sister's happiness, and the urge to lock her in a mile-high tower on a remote planet so that no one had the slightest chance of causing her hurt or distress, ever.

Nothing in his life had prepared him to be the patriarch of House Inirial, but when it came to interrogation, to profiling, to evaluation, that he had experience with. He kept his smile easily in place as he extended a hand towards Kelly, but his mind was already at work scrutinising every motion and detail. "It's nice to finally meet you properly, Colonel. I'm Adonis."

[Kelly Perris]

He couldn't help but crack the beginnings of a grin when Adonis went on to divulge the details of 'That Incident', having fully escaped the need to ask, and finding some small mercy in there being no-one to divulge the most uncomfortable memories of his formative years, yet by the same token he missed them. It would be worth his own embarrassment to have his mother, father, and sister around, but sometime in the ten years hence, he had laid the grief of losing them to rest; now his family was the Alliance, his pilots, and the woman at his side. Well, soon enough.

"Poor pilot?" he mouthed, glancing an aside to the 'gullible mess' in question, an eyebrow doing the ascendant creep and settling down before he turned his blue-eyed gaze back to her older brother and the proffered hand, grasping it firmly and giving it two pumps before release. "Likewise, and it's just 'Kelly'. We're off-duty."

He gestured towards the table.

"Shall we?"

[Adonis Inirial]

Off duty? That was a deeply alien concept. What duty was it that she should set aside? Was it Commander Inirial, intelligence officer, who barely owned a full outfit that wasn't a uniform, and considered downtime to be the evening hours when he worked from his quarters instead of his office, every waking moment spent ensuring that no secret slipped past him? Was it Lord Inirial, last son and incumbent patriarch of House Inirial, an unprepared relic of a dying family from a dead world, here at the behest of the only other Inirial still alive? Or was it Adonis Inirial, the sole surviving brother of Carré, here to meet the man that had stolen her heart, and might one day steal her hand in marriage leaving Adonis alone to bear the family name?

That was the thing about duty, to Adonis Inirial at least: there was far too much duty, far too much obligation to ever abandon it.

"Off duty, huh?" Adonis countered, bowing his head slightly at Kelly's suggestion that they sit, beginning to move but exercising the proper Alderaani protocol by waiting for the lady to sit first before he followed suit. He was careful to inject enough of a pleasant and casual tone into his words to be sure that he didn't seem entirely serious. "I guess that would make me Lord Inirial then, but -"

He shifted his attention to Carré, an odd expression gracing his features, the small lopsided smile not quite enough to offset the hint of sadness in his eyes.

"- I'm not sure I have the beard for that."