Do You Have a Flag: Sugar, Spice, Everything Not-So-Nice

[Morgan Evanar]

Jovan Station was a trade hub, which made it a good place to get transportation. It made it an even better place to get information. Serena had supplied him with an incomplete list of who the sabers might belong to, and their probable places of death (http://theholo.net/forum/showthread.php?55902-Do-You-Have-a-Flag-Hey-where-d-you-get-that-box).

Serena had been a Padawan during the Clone Wars, but the Jedi had not been worried about traitors within the Order. As a healer she had a good idea where most of the other Jedi had been when Order 66's fateful moment passed, and had a modicum of knowledge of each Jedi’s saber. He’d been given a list of names, species, and planet. Morgan wasn’t much good with the living Force, but he was good at puzzles. After all, mysteries were puzzles, right?

He exited the Alliance supply ship with a nearly unpronounceable name. Aside from getting off slightly after the rest of the crew, his height, and bright green eyes, Morgan was a mostly unremarkable human. He looked like a relatively hardened spacer, with a comfortable, durable jacket that had many pockets, a big blaster and pants with a few extra pockets too.

Morgan straightened once he cleared the secondary airlock and took a deep breath. A smorgasbord of species and shops lined the docking rings. The first thing that hit him after being on a supply ship with a limited galley was the smell of food.

[Kalleeiha Maillanaarro]

Madame Kalleeiha Maillanaarro had picked out a peach of a table. It sat on a balcony walkway section on the concourse that rose above the crush of sentient life on the trade level. From here, one could people watch to their heart's delighted content, and certainly, Madame Maillanaarro was a people watcher without peer. In fact, aside from a lengthy and fulfilling lunch, she'd taken this particular table in order to observe the arrival of an upcoming transport and it's many passengers. There were four in particular she was keen to see - new talent from Carshoulis Prime arriving to entertain her guests in the tea house. However, before those handsome creatures could make their debut on Jovan station, there remained the small task of disgorging the current tramp freighter that had berthed from Lantillies. For the most part, there was little to actually see - simply some well-worn spacers going through the act of pushing repulsor sleds full of cargo through the immense airlock.

Easing down her dainty macrobinoculars, Kalleiha glanced down, frowning at the spiral shell held between two pudgy fingers in her other hand. The Koorbaz snail had been ignored for too long, and had retreated back into it's abode so deeply that even using a claw to scoop it out was impossible. Well damn. With a sigh, the portly Cizerack dropped the morsel back on her plate. She could ask for a set of shell crackers, but that was unnecessary mess and effort. He'd have to come out of there sooner or later. In the meantime, there were perfectly decent thimiarr upon which her gluttony could be slaked. The Madame closed a hand around one of the rodents just as an interesting sight returned her attention back to the airlock. No, her four beauties were still no closer to making themselves seen. However, fate had a taste for whimsy. Madame Maillanaarro brought her macrobinoculars back to her eyes, focusing in on a particularly long, lean drink of human.

"Caai a ei'ha."

The protocol droid operating in her shadow stirred with a whine of servos. Fussy thing. Certainly less useful or enjoyable than a man's company, but Kalleeiha suffered with nobility so that her beautiful ones could remain in her shop to give the gift of hospitality to the public.

"Is something the matter, mistress?" the droid chimed in it's prissy timbre.

Finding something more appealing than her food for the moment, the Madame returned her plump rodent to the dish, opting instead for a sip of wine.

"Who jiss that man therre?"

The droid shuffle-stepped to the railing at the balcony's edge, peering down to where he approximated Madame Maillanaarro's gaze inhabited.

"Madame, I am...afraid you will have to be more specific."

Kalleeiha's jowly face fell into the beginning of a frown.

"jI'm sspeakjing of the handssome one. Ssee hjim therre jin the jacket and the devjil-majy-carre exprresssjion. Clearrljy he jiss not a crrew memberr, but nejitherr jiss he mjilljing about and gawkjing usselesssljy ljike a tourrjisst."

The Madame's blue eyes gleamed with confidence in her appraisal. She was so often right when it came to sussing people out.

"He'ss lookjing forr ssomethjing." she nodded with some finality, tipping back her wine as she moved on to dab her lips with a napkin.

"Go to hjim. Tell hjim jI want to meet hjim."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan had finally honed on a particular smell of food that caught his fancy after a slow stroll toward through the indeterminate mix of everything. Nerf steak and vegetables had finally clarified themselves through the scent-fog. Morgan also noticed the hurried whir and shuffle of a protocol droid. He stopped in front of the steak house, which proudly proclaimed it self to be "Jovan Station's Finest Nerf Steak" and started to read the menu.

"Excuse me, sir."

Morgan ignored the gold and red protocol droid for a moment, in the hope that it was trying to get someone else's attention. No real meal for the better part of four days had left him a little edgy.

"Sir, if I could just have your attention for a moment, my..." Morgan turned and regarded the droid. Fluent in millions of form of communication, the droid took a shuffle step backwards away from the man's considerable reach. The Jedi sighed and conjured as much patience as he could.

"Yes?" He said, the edge in his body language softened. The droid paused for a moment, and continued.

"As I was saying, my mistress Madame Maillanaarro would very much like to make your acquaintance." The droid explained. Morgan paused.

"And what does Madame Maillanaarro do?" He asked, and folded his arms across his chest.

[Kalleeiha Maillanaarro]

The protocol droid recoiled as much as decorum and servos would allow him to, a tone of surprise in his prim voice at Morgan's ignorance.

"Madame Maillanaarro is the proprietor of the finest tea house beyond the Carshoulis Cluster. Her reputation for catering to the needs of her guests is beyond reproach."

It seemed odd to the protocol droid that one could possibly pass through Jovan station without knowing that all-important piece of information.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan wondered if tea house was a Cizeri euphemism. Even still, free tea and probably free food! The worst case scenario was that he rudely left, or something. He decided to not think too much further about it.

"Well then. Please, lead the way."

"Very good sir. Do try to keep up." Morgan fought and kept his eyes from rotating in their sockets. He followed behind the droid from a casual distance.

After several minutes the droid shuffled into an elevator and took them up two decks. Was it floors on a space station? He'd have to ask someone.

The droid made a bee-line for the tea house, which he smelled before he could see. Despite being relatively well traveled, Morgan didn't know much about tea. It was one of those things that he took when offered, blue milk, sure, sugar, sure, but really only for the fuel. He didn't particularly need any of the espoused benefits tea offered, so, along with caf, it had gone mostly ignored. It, like caf, tasted ok, he supposed.

An overweight Cizerack rose from her table.

[Kalleeiha Maillanaarro]

Kalleeiha had the good decency to freshen up before meeting her potential customer, unsnapping a compact mirror in the palm of her hand to guide her napkin to any residual traces of blood or the like. So much good will could be undone by a fish scale lodged between the teeth. That was followed by demurely pressing her napkin to her lips to cover for a soundless belch. Ladies of quality in the Cluster took meal music as a sign of appreciation, but most races viewed the custom as faux pas. It was one of the many little insights that Madame Maillanaarro made use of in order to ingratiate and influence.

As Three-Tee-Kay returned with her catch, the Madame rose from her seat with a little effort, smoothing her dress at her ample figure as she beamed a smile.

"Ja irra korra'nai, trravellerr. jI am Madame Kalleeiha Maillanaarro, prroprrjietorr of the Maillanaarro Tea Housse."

Humans preferred their introductions with the pressing of hands, but there were levels of nuance in that ritual that Kalleeiha delighted in exploring. She presented her right hand to Morgan with it's palm upward.

"jIss thjiss jyourr fjirrsst jourrnejy to Jovan Sstatjion?"

An unnecessary question that she already had a strong indication for.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Morgan Tevar." He took her hand gently and gave it a soft shake, his oversized hand engulfing hers.

"It is, Madame Maillanaaro." He said, and returned his hand to his side.

"I'm not familiar with Cizerack tea houses." Morgan admitted off the bat.

[Kalleeiha Maillanaarro]

He returned his hand to his side. Not a romantic at heart. The Madame's upturned ears metered downward a few degrees, but still remained optimistically angled.

"Perrhapss forr the besst. Ssometjimess the wrrong rreputatjion prreceedss them. jIf jyou wjill be mjy guesst, jyou wjill fjind that tea helpss one fjind exactljy what thejy arre lookjing forr."

Kalleeiha gave her human guest a prodding expression.

"That'ss whjy jyou'rre herre, ne? Lookjing."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan caught the ear twitch. He did something that disappointed her. He had no idea what, and decided to not worry about it.

"I was looking for a nerf steak. A couple of days without a real meal leaves a man with a craving. After your droid invited me over, I figured that a bit of tea before a meal might be nice." Morgan shrugged. Sure, in the larger, metaphorical and literal sense, he was looking to solve a mystery. He felt that a little paranoia might not be undue since, you know, he suspected a conspiracy.

[Kalleeiha Maillanaarro]

All of this talk was a bit desultory. If that was the reason Morgan Tevar was on Jovan, then Kalleeiha's sense for intrigue had recently dulled. More likely, this man played the game most people embarked on in conversation. Dispense with the inconsequential by degrees until arriving at the heart of the matter. An Ithorian acquaintance of hers had once said that conversations were like an onion that way. Whatever an onion may be.

"Ah."

She smiled politely.

"Well jI am affrrajid on both counts that jI can offerr nejitherr. Howeverr, jI am told that the esstabljisshment adjacent to mjy parrlorr..." she gestured to the small restaurant next to her much larger tea house, "...offerrss both at rreassonable qualjitjy."

A thimiarr bobbed his head over the Madame's food dish, and she demurely tapped it with a finger, causing it to duck out of sight.

"Mentjion mjy name and thejy wjill offerr jyou a djisscount."

The Madame had been quick establish such a relationship with the human eatery next door, and it had resulted in a good deal of cross-business with curious offworlders ending their meals with a taste of the exotic.

"jIf therre jiss anjythjing elsse jyou need, jI trrusst jyou won't forrget me on jyourr sstajy. jYou majy be ssurrprrjissed at what jI can offerr jif jyou assk."

[Morgan Evanar]

"Well, I was actually looking for passage to Jabiim in the longer term. I can have a bit of a one-track mind at times." Morgan smiled a little sheepishly. He elaborated to keep things moving, because now his curiosity was eating him, even if he wasn't likely to get a free meal or drink out of the deal. Which was a bummer. A few words, a cup of tea, some interesting facts to file into a noggin, and maybe a freighter.

"Madame, you've piqued my curiosity, please, continue. My meal can wait."

[Kalleeiha Maillanaarro]

"Jabjiim? jIss that a sstarr ssjysstem?"

The Madame's ears piqued with interest momentarily before leveling out.

"jI wjissh jI werre a well-trraveled ssoul. jYou musst forrgjive mjy jignorrance. Howeverr, jI happen to know qujite a few well-sseassoned sspace pjilotss, one orr two of whjich arre makjing usse of mjy parrlorr's luxurrjiess rrjight now, acttualljy."

A hand was placed on Morgan's shoulder as another extended ahead to beckon him forrward.

"Come, perrhapss we can fjind what jyou need. jI hope jyou arre jin no hurrjy to leave, howeverr. jI would be honorred to have jyou asss a guesst."

Morgan was ushered ahead a few paces ahead of the Madame, who took the few seconds of private decorum to turn back to her abandoned meal, seizing the fattest thimiarr in a fist that muffled it's shriek. She pushed it past her lips in a hurried scarf that abandoned ladylike poise for a glutton's expediency. Four bites worth of rodent were dispatched in a messy, bone-crunching rending. Kalleeiha pinched the tail to pull it free from her closing teeth, severing it at the base which allowed her to discard it to her plate the way humans might dispense with the stem of a cherry. Four blood-flecked fingers and a thumb softly smacked as they passed her lips to have the last crimson evidence sucked clean, then covered her mouth as she belched in demure volume, once again turning to follow Morgan Tevar as he entered the Tea House.

[Morgan Evanar]

Before the Tea House proper was a locker room, with a list of banned items, including dyed clothing.

Less is more!.

Oh. Tea house? Bath house. Obviously a Cizerack social construct.

Morgan smelled diffused oils, selected to be safe for a very broad range of species. The humidity increased the further he went into the locker room. There was also instructions for gender segregated locker rooms, or a general one. Morgan opted for the general one, and carefully inserted his weapons into internal jacket pockets before he rolled it off of his shoulders. The locker rooms were tasteful, a combination of white tiles with interspersed gold tiles and warm reddish, polished wood.

He heard the patter of feet against tile, and a lithe Cizerack woman emerged from around the corner, honey skin and and green eyes. And naked. Morgan took a glance when she turned to the locker and nodded appreciatively to himself.

I am a leaf in hot water.

Well, when on Neimoidia. He pulled his clothing off. The only article on his person was the orange key with the locker number slipped over his ankle.

[Kalleeiha Maillanaarro]

"Hau'e jee'la."

The Madame in turn called to one of her pool boys to help her disrobe. He received her outer garments as she expertly worked the bows that held the brightly colored mantle at her middle. It took a few moments to do the deed, and Kalleeiha padded barefoot from the locker room with corpulent divinity for all to see. She eased into the steaming water, followed closely behind by the pool boy who dispensed with his sarong. He eased against the Tea House proprietor, his head resting on her ample bosom. Madame Maillanaarro raised an arm up languidly to stroke his hair as she watched Morgan take his first tentative steps into the water.

"The mosst jimporrtant rrule to abjide bjy herre, Mjissterr Tevarr, jisss to enjojy jyourrsself jin whateverr wajy jyou ssee fjit."

Whether that was by conversation, relaxation, a cocktail, or something a bit more base.

"Now, about Jabjiim, tell me of thjiss place."

[Morgan Evanar]

"I see."

He let his gaze stretch out over 50 meters of water a meter deep, the surface only interrupted by benches, backrests and lounging bodies. He took the steps casually, and settled into a bench across from Kalleeiha with a relaxed sigh. He slouched, and spread his arms across the length of the back rest to bring the water up to his chest.

"It's in the Outer Rim, and has, by most species standards, absolutely terrible weather. But they also had very valuable ores. Repulsors don't work reliably due to the electrical interference, that sort of thing. They've had a rather bad run of it, and were first ignored by the Republic and then made a mess of during the Clone Wars. Last report I saw was that things had gone very wrong during the Rebellion, and I'm going to see if there is anything left of the place. Might be a business opportunity, or it could be a wash."

[Kalleeiha Maillanaarro]

"jIt ssoundss ljike a forrlorrn place." The Madame replied with a slightly downturned ear. "And dangerrouss. Farr too dangerrouss forr me, jI'm afrrajid."

She gave Morgan an appraising look, a slight smile of confidence after doing so.

"But jyou look ljike a ssturrdjy man. jIf thjiss Jabjiim jiss jin need of a good tamjing, then ja irra korra'nai."

The portly woman's eyes turned from Morgan, scanning the crowd in the pool. Every week, the field at play seemed to be more and more diverse. Even the aliens were now drawn inexorably in for Cizeri tea. What a strange and wonderful time to be alive.

"That man, overr therre."

Kalleeiha pointed him out. A human with his back turned, in the midst of plowing a red-haired Cizerack rough in the deep water.

"jI rrecall hjim mentjionjing he jiss a sspacerr of no ssmall amount of experrjience. jYou majy want to assk hjim..."

Even as she recommended the option, a Naala'in Cizerack woman approached Morgan, running her fingertips along his arm as she asked "Ce'jaai na ehi?"

Kalleeiha's face with a mirthful smile.

"...jin due tjime of courrsse."

[Morgan Evanar]

"Of course."

Morgan turned to the interested party.

Sorraar. He said with a smile. I hope my Cizeri is tolerable. Morgan's accent wasn't great, but it was probably better than most off-worlders.

She raised an eyebrow, but it was clear that she wanted something more physical than a conversation when she grabbed his hand.

"What the hell." He muttered with a grin and palmed the woman's bottom.

[Kalleeiha Maillanaarro]

As the Naala'in woman pulled Morgan aside for a quick introduction into Cizeri social networking norms, Madame Maillanaarro noticed that the aforementioned spacer was nearing his peak. Obviously it was good enough for the red-head, who needed to steady herself against the pool side with a hand as she arched her back, with the other hand clutching tight at a handful of his hair for counter leverage. She moaned and shrieked as her tail slapped at the water.

Just another day at the office.

The Madame snapped her fingers, gesturing toward the impending climax. "Lee'rra ka'uurrei ta." It didn't need to be said, however. The pool boy was already moving to that side of the pool with fresh cocktails on a tray. It was always best to have the drinks positioned for the afterglow. Patrons tended to be thirsty after orgasm, and certainly not in a mood to trifle with the considerable mark-up the Madame put on the beverage service.

[Sanis Prent]

"Hey, watch the hair! Uh...kaarrai la'u waaharree s'indate'ei!"

She fell against me like erotic fallout, her flexible curves as pliant as could be. Panting, coos, those happy claw-kneadings as she sighed between running her tongue along my jawline. All I knew was that right now, I wanted the eyeblaster that the kid at pool's edge was holding just out of arm's reach. I carried her along another half step, reaching out for the cocktail.

"A'ihau'rrei ne kaan'au."

Put it on my tab, like always. I took an awkward sip, shifting my weight a little.

"I'm not saying it wasn't great or anything, but you can go ahead and get off me now."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan felt it was only polite for everyone to have a good time.

He judged from the increasing urgency of her moans and the grip on his shoulders, she was having a good time. He played with the rhythm, finding out what she responded best to. With her balanced against him using one hand, the other was free to wander and discover what sort of play she liked best.

---

After nearly half an hour, his partner was spent, and was motioning the pool boy for a drink. Morgan gave her a playful slap and then waded to the other side of the pool.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Sanis Prent.

[Sanis Prent]

I just wanted a few minutes of peace. Maybe I'd be good for round three. Maybe I'd catch a sauna or a massage. But right now, I just wanted my drink while it was still cold.

"Suu'la eia nelaanti jirra, gai?"

A popular request for a human guy, I'd found out long ago. Short girl, spotted skin, and a big wild mane of curly brunette hair waded over to me to clink her glass against mine. She smiled expectantly, licking the space between her left index finger and thumb in the contingency that I was on the other side of the language barrier, which I wasn't.

In the land of rough-tongued felinoids, the human with the smooth one was king. Or at least bottom bitch. At any rate I wasn't quite captain of the swim team, and a bit of g'day down under probably required small details like lung capacity.

"Wau'e laa kanee na su'saa." Some other time, perhaps.

Just then, I spotted a tall blast from my past.

"Karabast, this is one small galaxy!"

[Morgan Evanar]

"Well, it's been a few years." Morgan said, a little distant, his mind recalled some very rough times they had shared and not much good since.

"How you doin'?" He grinned and asked, mostly ignoring the Naala'in colored passenger on his shoulders, filled with conquest afterglow. She absentmindedly stroked Morgan's short hair.

[Sanis Prent]

"A little better since last our paths crossed."

To put it lightly. And yet, maybe not the whole of it. Fancy duds, new ship, and the closest thing to stable employment I'd ever held down in my life. But I'd traded in a lot of good people in exchange for that. Cirrsseeto. Loklorien. Morgan Evanar was also good people. He was a Jedi, so that set him back a few steps, but he'd always been a pretty no-bullshit sort of Jedi, and I appreciated that. Then there was the whole saving my life bit. It helped to salvage what had otherwise been a bad day several years ago.

I gestured with my nearly-empty cocktail to the piece of ass hanging near him, who was still marginally interested in a round two, but becoming less and less interested in the conversation.

"I see you're still observing all the time-honored monastic traditions of the Jedi."

[Morgan Evanar]

"You know me, ever the staunch traditionalist." That earned a quick chuckle.

"Humph." Morgan's passenger was getting bored. He twisted and reached up, securing the Cizerack as she rotated off of his shoulders. Disappointed was what her face said, and she slapped Morgan on his ass as she left. He looked over his shoulder and she gave him a wink.

"They're a lot friendlier when they're not military." Morgan remarked.

"Amen." Sanis raised his glass to that. "What brings you out to Jovan?"

"I was going to ask you the same, but I'm trying to get to Jabiim." Unless you were a Clone Wars scholar or a rare minerals trader, one wouldn't have heard of Jabiim. Sanis knew lots of interesting people and had brushed against interesting knowledge, so it was possible he'd heard of the planet.

[Sanis Prent]

"Jabiim?"

Now fully abandoned by my casual playmate, I could talk a bit of shop without (admittedly fantastic) distractions.

"Never been myself, but I've hustled my fair share of prospectors. A sector out of Boonta, on the border of the Hutt badlands. The hell you want with a place like that?"

With the Jedi, who knew. The place had been kicked around by the army of the republic and the confederates during the clone wars, though that was beyond ancient history. Then again, I didn't peg Morgan Evanar as the mining sort of guy.

[Morgan Evanar]

If it were some random spacer, he'd probably be less than truthful. Morgan liked Sanis, despite the fact that he probably wasn't on the level with everyone else, their relationship had been consistently truthful thus far.

"I think someone is trying to frame Jedi. Some of the evidence for it might be on Jabiim. Probably. I dunno, the Force isn't exactly the most forthcoming for me, but I've got a general feeling, and the logic pieces fit pretty well." Morgan shrugged to stop himself from rambling.

"Madame Maillanaarro suggested you might have a ship, or access to one."

[Sanis Prent]

"I do, yeah."

I waded to the steps of the pool, then climbed out. A pool boy was ready with a towel, which I took to wrap around my middle.

"Not as nice as the last one, but she's got it where it counts like always."

Me and Morgan had good history, but he'd grown up in the school of hard knocks like I had. Unlike the Jedi Order, I didn't run a charity ward.

"You didn't leave your credit pouch in your other robes, did you? There's not much money in that galactic armpit, and a bit of risk. Figure about five thousand worth of risk, give or take whether it's just hutt problems out there or the lightsabery kind."

[Morgan Evanar]

"More of a jacket guy, myself, so I've got the creds." The less the Alliance's paw prints were on things the less attention it would get. "Lucky" stock market movement had made Morgan a man of means who didn't really spend much of it. He'd ask to get reimbursed for some of it later.

Morgan followed Sanis out and wiped himself down before securing the towel around his waist.

Sanis seemed to have lost his... do the right thing streak? Losing the Layla had hit him hard. He'd even run from his best friend, sort of. Sanis could have found a role in the Alliance if he'd wanted it, but he... reverted? Was a correct assessment?

"Should be a milk run, but tell you what. I'll give you 4k on boarding and if nothing happens after we jump out, we're square. If shit goes down I pay 1500, so you end up with 5500." A bit of Nar Shadda slipped into accent and pace of speech. Fair's fair, right?

[Sanis Prent]

I said nothing at first, but the smirk on my face was about as binding as a signature on a contract.

"You've got yourself a round trip to Jabiim, sounds like. My ship's in bay G-4. Meet there in, say, an hour?"

I didn't want to sell my eagerness, but even with the risk and relatively low reward, this little blue milk detour seemed like stepping back in to the old life. Maybe I hadn't quite severed as cleanly as I thought. Maybe Cirrsseeto was more right about me than I dared admit.