It was one of Khera'Va'ss'io's stops at Jovan. Routine. Normal. It was a thing that she had come to enjoy in her so-far short stint aboard the Alliance warship. From family matriarch to refugee, to ship's cook. It was a strange path that the great wargod set her to, but one that she was more than happy to embark upon. After all, she did enjoy the old clan pit-smoking nights, and preparing the feast meals for groups of her extended family. She was never the one to go off in search of a glorious death or hunt; she left that to the younger boys. No, she much preferred to be ruler of the pit and spit.

'Queen of the kitchen', was what some of the ship's crew called her. It was an honorific, she had come to learn, and she embraced the title with gusto. She ruled over the galley with an iron knife, often using her cooking utensils to chase away the ship's first mate with an angry ladle or skewering fork. The man was relentless. Not to mention a bottomless pit.

But now, on Jovan, Idiri Su'ul Ahan'war was making her way through the docking umbilical to begin her exploratory journey through the wondrous markets. Many were run by the Cizerack, and she had a healthy appreciation of the felinoid aliens' tendencies toward live food. Apparently so did the captain, and Idiri always made sure to stock her larders with live sajoi and rabbit. The captain was a strange one; nothing like normal humans.

Passing through customs was easy. They knew here well enough.

The trips through the stations myriad of lifts was also easy. It was simply a waiting game.

The real excitement was had when those doors opened to disgorge the passengers onto the market level.

It was chaotic, load, and the smells... the smells reminded her of home.

Pushing her way through the mass of haggling Cizerack and the occasional human bystander, Idiri headed for her first stop - the Corellian butcher shop, A Cut Above. The butcher knew here, from her previous visits, and she hoped that he had a good stock of ronto, dewback, and eopie cutlets for her.