After a productive day, and a restful night, Lilaena De'Ville stood outside the heavy freighter Stormfalcon. Her socialite guise from the day before was gone, replaced with a utilitarian jumpsuit in navy blue. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her face free of makeup. She felt confident that the technician from the day before, Torgeir, would be arriving shortly, and his strength in the Force would be added to the collective of adepts that she was gathering.

It was strange to be in a position of leadership. She had followed others for so long... yes she had trained apprentices before, but leading a small army and a group of Force users was something else entirely. As long as everyone remained on the same page, the group would stay together. If it began to splinter, if those she brought together decided to seize power for themselves? She would have to decide how far she was willing to go to keep the group together, and under her control.

Droids were loading up the cargo bay with crates of consumables, suitable for long term storage and greatly needed for her large capital ship. "Hey," she shouted, jabbing a finger at an errant heavy droid who was rolling away empty handed. "I need these packed up as soon as possible! That means you help!"

"Apologies, gentles," the droid wheedled in a low voice. "This one is needed elsewhere." It continued on it's way, leaving her with a pile of crates and only one droid to work it.