The Tailor of Jovan Station

[Brask]

A few weeks after Jovan Station's change of location...

Admar Brask stood in the hatchway taking in the arrivals hall at the base of one of Jovan Station's docking spires.

This is not how I remember it.

The hall had once been an impressive sight. Banks of seating, refreshment counters, huge information displays and a long row of booths each occupied by members of the station's immigration and customs team (with security backup in plain view) to check papers and bags. Several hundred beings could be processed (or wait to be processed) in comfort and with ease.

Now the hall was a mostly empty space. The deck plates were puckered by bolt holes where seating had once been secured. The bulkheads bore the marks of displays wrenched away, tendrils of torn wire hanging forlornly. The booths, too, were gone replaced by a handful of trestle tables at which sat a few bored looking Alliance and Cizerack personnel.

And everywhere posts with belts strung between them. These delineated the routing for queues of new arrivals, a long snaking gauntlet intended for a very large number of people to stand and shuffle forward. Right now there were only a dozen passengers, Brask included, and eleven of them were already chicaning their way through the gauntlet under the eyes of the station staff.

Brask sighed and followed them.

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Hey there!"

An affably-smiling Herglic saw the thoughtful, surveying expression of the man debarking from the latest civilian starliner. He didn't really seem lost, but he wasn't exactly looking around the place like it was just the next starport either.

"Welcome to Joovan Station."

[Brask]

Brask did not jump but he was clearly surprised by the unexpected and cheery hail turning sharply towards its originator. He had, it seemed, not registered the Herglic's presence just to his left as he stepped through the hatch.

His left hand twitched upwards towards the cause of this oversight. The flesh around his left eye was bruised and swollen as if by some fearsome blow. The swelling had pressed close upon the lower lid creating a mild visual impairment.

"Thank you," he said, "I'm sorry I didn't see you there." His eyes took in the array of tools and the open hatch between the edge of the roped off gauntlet and the beaming being and then ranged over the shabby space in which the whole stood. "I suppose you engineers have a lot to do here."

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Ooh yah, she's a real fixer upper, yaknoo! We're putting in double shifts aan facelift duty, buuut these Imperial prefabs suure can take a hammerin'. She's a stout penguin that's for suure!"

The Herglic gave an appraising thwack against the solid pylon she stood next to, and was rewarded by a brief din of solid metal. Looking again at the human, Gradoona hweee'd in neighborly concern.

"Say there, that's a beaut of a shiner ya gaat. Take a laatta bumps aan the way oover? You should praaaabably goo see the Doc at the infirmary at some point. He's noo bedside manner soorta fella, buuut he's still good people."

[Brask]

"No, no," Brask laughed, "The journey was quite smooth really. This is a mark of dissatisfaction given to me by a customer. He objected to one of the measurements I took."

He paused to consider how this sounded.

"To the results," he clarified, "not to the taking of them you understand."

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Ooh..."

Gradoona scratched at the bridge of her beak, not exactly picking up what the shinered-up man was putting down. Some sort of business altercation, seemed like.

"Well, yaknoo the fiiirst rule aaf engineering is always measure twice and cut once!" She added, unsure of the use at the proverb. He didn't seem to be the engineering type. His hands were a little too soft-looking.

[Brask]

"We have that in common, lieutenant," Brask observed cheerfully. "Though I suspect your customers are less sensitive than mine."

His left hand dipped into the breast pocket of his jacket and retrieved a slip of high quality flimsiplast. He offered this to Gardoona with a little bow.

"My card."


ADMAR BRASK
Bespoke and fitted apparel for the discerning being.

Brask smiled at the engineer wondering whether his name would seem familiar to her. Perhaps it was still visible above the door of his old shop, faded but still proud.

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

Gradoona's eyes turned up in amused half-moons as her blowhole fweeeeed, which punctuated with amused clacking.

"Naat sensitive? Booy howdy yoou haven't heard a dressin' down like when ya doon't align the cycle feed juust riiight for some haat shaat Cappie. That's a three penguin comeapart! I've heard a real bless-down that'd curl paint aaff the waalls!"

Even as he'd dismissed the rigors of an Engineer's life, the bruised-up man had passed his card to her. Huh, well that was a strange feather in the cap, now wasn't it?. Gradoona wasn't exactly the sort to get a lot of business cards, so with a curious eye, she examined it.




ADMAR BRASK


Bespoke and fitted apparel for the discerning being.



A tailor? Gradoona's eyes brightened a bit.

"Oooh. Heeey. That shaap, oover aan section D caancoourse? That's you?"

[Brask]

"It's still there, then. Good.

"Yes...well at least it used to be," the clothes fitter answered a little wistfully. "I was away on business when the Treaty was signed and then everything got very difficult. Certainly coming back didn't seem possible for a while there."

Then a smile washed over his face.

"But now I'm back and I hope to re-open."

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

Sometimes serendipity smiled on Gradoona, and this had to be one of those times. She let out a long whistle with an open-mouthed grin revealing a curling tongue.

"That would be reeal suuper, yaknoo! Geepers, I really could use a little help in that depaartment! I mean..."

The Herglic let her arms rise a bit, and fall by her girthy sides for emphasis.

"...baack aan Giju, it wouldn't be a thing at aall, buuut I'm a few penguins past what flies for an extra laarge in human terms."

[Brask]

Brask ran a politely assessing eye over his prospective customer.

"Oh, I am sure I could do something rather nice for you. Would it be workwear only or a few things for off duty as well?"

I'll need to get in PLENTY in harder wearing weaves.

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Ooh...weellll..."

So she had options. Gradoona puffed a bit of thoughtful air out of her blowhole, shifting on her broad feet.

"...geepers, yaknoo I'd oonly thought aboout regulation coveraalls, buuuut maybe somethin' a little aaff duty too if yoou're naat too busy and all."

A big meaty mitt fidgeted at the garments that barely fit around her and certainly didn't button up at the middle. She'd felt a bit self conscious about this for quite some time.

[Brask]

"Then you must drop by the shop...if I manage to get my lease back."

The little man looked about rather anxiously.

"Who should I speak to about that do you suppose?"

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

Hah! She had a date!

With the tailor, that was. No more busted seams and awkward shuffles for this gal! As Gradoona whee'd softly in excitement, Brask had a question of his own for her.

"Aboout gettin' yoour shop up an' runnin' again? S'pooose ya coould ask Commander Akiena, but he's scrapin' the butter pretty thin aan the tooast already if ya knoow what I mean."

Gradoona held out a thumb on her right hand, then an index finger.

"Theeen there's K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei, ah..."

The Herglic paused, clacking.

"...that's XO for us non-feline lay foolk. She kiinda acts like the Commander's gooalie, yaknoo - kickin' away the little stuff befoore it lands aan his plate. Doon't let 'er soour face run ya aaff thoo, I thiiink she just looks angry in a resting state."

[Brask]

On this advice, the little man's anxiety faded somewhat.

"I'll go to the K'ohta'rrou, then," he nodded with an imitation of decisiveness, "Perhaps she would find my services of use as well."

And with a small bow he set off again to run the gauntlet to the security and immigration desks.

A Cizerack officer? Well that'll be fun.

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Hm, maaybe?" Gradoona mimed the action of a shrug, which was difficult to do when your shoulders didn't distinguish themselves far from your neck. She thought about the K'ohta'rrou and her normal workplace attire, once again feeling perpetually underdressed. The Cizerack officers all looked so ritzy.

"Thaanks foor the help!" She gave a wave as the tailor was no-doubt off in search for K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Du'a e. Kaninaa'tauhuee sinnaa'haa'le nau'haatorri!"

K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei had had enough. Ears switched back, she laid into Kiinditaara Nokorree with everything she had just shy of striking the woman. Civilian or not, it just wasn't done unless you were following it up with an arrest. The older Cizerack business magnate hissed in protest, literally clutching her pearls in outrage.

"Nau'haatorri nei nu kaan'i wai'au? S'ind ei chee'haana'e!"

What had started as an intervention regarding cargo safety rules had now become a jurisdictional pissing match. One that Rrou Nokorree had neither the authority nor weight to play with. She had the audacity to think that simply because she moved her cargo like she'd always done on the mother worlds, that those rules would fly here. On a space station that was not only outside of the cluster, but also a joint mandate with the Alliance of Free Planets. These were the Alliance rules. These were the Trade Navy's rules. These Were The Rules.

"Cha'eenna nau prau'waali Rrou Nokorree..." T'yeellaa warned the businesswoman in an icy tone. She turned to one of the two Alliance soldiers behind her, reverting to basic to issue a command.

"jImpound the carrgo. All of jit."

Rrou Nokorree went nuclear, somehow managing the linguistic shift as well to divert her pleas to the men at the K'ohta'rrou's command.

"jYou can't do thjiss! jI have a ssanctjioned trrade charrterr wjith the gujild of sscjiencess!"

"jI can and jI wjill, Rrou Nokorree. jYou've rrun-arround the rrequjirred prrocesssjing on thjiss sstatjion and don't jyou tell me that wass an, ahem, overrssjight becausse jI am farr frrom bejing sso sstupjid. jYou wjill rresspect the rruless. The Alljiance'ss rruless, the Prrjide'ss rruless, mjy rruless, orr jI wjill make cerrtajin jyou neverr usse thjiss porrt of entrrjy agajin."

Rrou Nokorree stood livid, her lips stammering for a rebuttal as the Alliance soldiers began to move the hover sleds full of her unauthorized shipment. T'yeellaa adjusted the knot of her cravat, which had shifted slightly during the outburst.

"Feel frree to djisspute the rruljing wjith the mjinjisstrrjy. Take all the tjime jyou need. Don't worrjy, jit doessn't take long forr forrm letterrss to trravel. Now get off mjy concourrsse."

[Brask]

That tech was low balling it.

As far as Brask could see, the two felinoids had gone from polite official discourse to full blown row in a startlingly short time. It also seemed that the one in uniform (identified by a helpful local as the woman he sought) had not only escalated the situation but done so without hesitation and publicly. The altercation was being watched from two levels by a couple of dozen beings at least.

For a moment he considered hesitation himself but really what would achieve?

He made his way down from his perch on the upper level, reaching Meorrrei as the crowd of nearest onlookers dispersed.

"Er...excuse me," the little man addressed himself to the much more impressive being, "would you be K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Coming down from the proper shredding that she had partaken in, T'yeellaa turned on a boot heel sharply at Brask's voice. Her expression wasn't angry, but rather a default setting of intense that the K'ohta'rrou seemed to always wear as if it were a part of her uniform.

"jI am."

Her gloved hands clasped in front of her, the fingers curling tight as she waited for the human to speak what was on his mind. Hopefully this wasn't a round of small talk that she clearly didn't have time for.

[Brask]

Again Brask proffered his card.

"My name's Admar Brask. Until not long ago I had a shop here." A pause to assess their location. "Well over round there actually." A hand waved to indicate a place somewhere further round the curve of the promenade. "I'm told you would be the person to ask about re-opening."

As if disconcerted by the lack of change in the lady's expression, he began to fumble with his small case. "I have a copy of the lease somewhere."

The case dropped from his grasp.

[Brask]

The bag was open and as it dropped it tilted to one side. It hit the deck plate at an angle, its base pushing upwards and ejecting some of the contents with appreciable force through the opening. Some items became airborne while others dropped and rolled, slid, or skittered over the traction ridges of the metal surface. Datacards and pad, a few low denomination credit chips, some sheets of flimsiplast and paper, and small fabric roll were scattered about in a few moments.

The noises generated - the thud of the leather bag and its remaining contents upon the deck, the chitterings of metal on metal and plastic, too, the distinctive tink of hard currency dropping - drew the attention of those nearby as did the rather alarmed, "Oh dear!" emitted by the bag's owner.

After a beat of surprise, a handful of beings hurried forward to gather up the escaped items, scooping them back into the bag or pressing them directly into the hands of a stutteringly grateful Brask. In short order all his possessions had been restored to him apart from a few credits pocketed by one of the helpers and the fabric roll.

This last had come to a halt when it struck the Cizerack officer's foot with the light clink of the metal contents - various tools of their owner's trade - as it did so. There they lay at an impasse of sorts since nobody expected Meorrrei to pick it up but nor did anyone dare approach close enough to her to do so.

[Cavrasiella La Fonte]

No one, except a tall, slender Twi'Lek. She moved like some sort of fluid, her body shifting easily down into a crouch beside Jovan's second-in-command. Meorrrei, was her name? Cavra had not been on the station quite long enough to memorize the faces to names, but she'd at least made an effort to remember the command staff. To a degree. Reaching out to the roll of fabric, she took it up in a smooth motion before once more rising to stand.

The man looked as though he was in flux. There was a sense of familiarity that he held with this station, yet a look in his eyes that belied surprise. As though he was trying to soak up some new measure of knowledge that had been added upon.

She smiled, extending the fabric to him with care.

"You've the look of a man returned to an old haunt," she spoke, her voice welcoming.

[Brask]

A little surprized both by the speed and the apparent daring of this being, Brask took the proffered roll of fabric with a little bow indicating gratitude and acknowledgement of the other's remark.

"In former times, I kept an outfitters here," the roll of fabric was stowed away with the other items, "I was just about to make enquiries about it with the K'ohta'rrou," here he gave another little bow this time indicating respect, "on the advice of one her colleagues."

His hand dipped again into his case, this time he did not drop it, and offered a datacard to the Cizerack officer, "A copy of the lease, as I was saying, Madam." As he waited for her to read its contents, he turned to his new acquaintance to enquire about her own standing on the station.

Always be more interested than interesting as my instructors used to advise.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa's right eyebrow cocked severely as the civilian took her initiative. Easing back, she regarded this human with a somewhat-cool expression, her jawline tensing almost as a punctuation of an expression. Fortunately, he didn't dawdle on the awkwardness of the encounter and got right to the point. The K'ohta'rrou took the datacard from him with a white-gloved hand, swiftly sliding it into a reader, which promptly translated the data into Cizeri glyph.

"Thjiss would appearr to be jin orrderr, accorrdjing to jImperrjial clerrjical forrmatss. jI asssume that jyou arre herre to assserrt jyourr ownerrsshjip clajim. Arre jyou awarre of the rre-ljisscenscjing fee jinvolved jin trranssferrjing jyourr clajim to a prroperrtjy holdjing jin the Cizeri-Alljiance jojint-economjic zone?"

Smoothly, T'yeellaa retrieved another data card from her pocket, providing it to Brask. "jYou majy rrevjiew jit at jyourr lejissure. Would jyou ljike to jinsspect the prroperrtjy?"

[Brask]

Brask accepted the proffered datacard. He would review its contents of course and make, for the sake of appearances, enquiries on some points but he was resigned to the necessity of paying – probably overpaying – for what he wanted.

“I would be glad to; I have missed the place a great deal,” he sighed. He seemed to be lost momentarily among memories then rallied himself to say with deferential tone, “But I do not want to take too much of your valuable time or disrupt your plans for the day. If you prefer, I can wait for a colleague of yours to show me. Or we can agree upon a time to meet that suits you.”