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Thread: The Tailor of Jovan Station

  1. #21
    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.

  2. #22
    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.

  3. #23
    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.

  4. #24
    TheHolo.Net Poster


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    T'yeellaa Meorrrei's Avatar
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    Aug 2010
    AKA
    Charley
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    Jovan Station
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    851
    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?"

  5. #25
    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.”

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