acertainpov | OOM: Everybody's dancing and the band's top volume

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OOM: Everybody's dancing and the band's top volume

It should have been a simple intel gathering exercise. Slip unannounced into the shipping traffic surrounding Scipio, use stolen codes to land, get to the dropbox, get the datachip, leave.

The first problem is that it isn't Obi-Wan's contact, it's Depa Billaba's contact, and she arranged the meeting. But Depa Billaba then went into battle against General Grievous, andd is now in a coma, so Obi-Wan has been dispatched instead. He has the negotiating skills, he could make the connection.

The second problem is that the dropbox doesn't contain the datachip, but an invitation to a ball, and a flimsi that says I'll meet you there.

And the third problem is the name on the invitation is Jynna Lora.

"You're good at undercover work," Cody says to Obi-Wan, "but I don't think you could pass as a 'Jynna Lora.'"

"I suspect you're right there."

"So do we turn around, signal for a female Jedi?"

Obi-Wan considers this, and shakes his head. "No, I think I shall go to the ball. Wait there, Cody."

And on that, he heads through the door to Milliways.

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"And what a story," Obi-Wan says, "although somewhat untold, I'm afraid, as the invitation had no other name on it. What name would you give your knight, my lady? I was thinking Gido Karaay? Or Dash Cardon?"

"Oh, a knight so dashing simply must be Dash Cardon," she replies, because of course he's Dash Cardon. "I'm so sorry Gido Karaay wasn't able to join us today, but duty calls."

"It does sound rather like a Rodian name, doesn't it?" Obi-Wan reflects, rubbing his freshly washed and trimmed beard thoughtfully. "Very well, Sir Dash it is, as your service and by your side, my lady."

Edited 2021-04-16 17:44 (UTC)

"My dear Sir Dash, you are entirely too kind to act like I could tell Rodian from Imarrin," she says, chuckling and not thinking about the sheer amount of bluffing she may have to do, in a galaxy not her own.

"But then, I imagine we've come a long way for this event."

Far enough that a representative of the highly esteemed and prestigious Lora family wouldn't already be known among the wealthy elite.

Obi-Wan chuckles at the first sentence, but he has confidence in her.

(Confidence and a Jedi Mind Trick)

"Oh, yes. Scipio is in the Outer Rim, and you, my Lady, are representative of one of the ruling elite of Imarr, on the far side of the inner rim. Of course, I wouldn't be surprised if you had more important things to worry about than politics, though of course you hate the corrupt Republic and are an avowed Separatist."

"Of course," she says with just a touch of imperious distance to her smile, as though it were the most natural conclusion in the world, hardly needing to be said. "So it is only natural that they might not have heard much of Imarr or the Lora family, however prestigious. Our business is our own, not theirs."

She smiles, and it's Sunshine's smile again. "They can just wonder."

"Indeed, my lady."

Obi-Wan inclines his head to her quiet and differential. "Not that anyone will question too much, I think. They won't like to admit a lack of knowledge, after all."

Sunshine chuckles, warmly. "I can't help but think the feeling is mutual, there."

Her capacity for invention is flash hot stark, but she will certainly play her part.

"Do we know much about our illustrious host?"

"The Jafan Typho," Obi-Wan says. "Human, native to Scipio, not affiliated with any big power, but he has many friends in the Banking Clan, so you can expect to see many Neimodians. Just a second,"

He extends a hand, palm up, and closes his eyes until a tiny yellow fish appears to swim through the air from one of the hiding places around the bar, until it flops damply in his hand. Then he hands it to Sunshine.

"For the language barrier," he says. "It works best if you put it in your ear."

Edited 2021-04-19 16:13 (UTC)

Externally, Sunshine just pauses, looking at the tiniest fish flopping lightly against her hand then shooting a glance at Obi-Wan to see if he's serious about this (which... he seems to be). Internally, there is a definite moment of full-body flailing at the idea.

"Shiva wept, Obi-Wan, you better know what you're doing," Rae mutters, glancing at the tiniest fish again and trying (and failing) not to imagine what this will feel like. "And little guy, you'd better be able to find your way back out again."

Obi-Wan just grins at her, cheerful, confident, and almost, almost like he knows exactly what he's doing.

"If it makes you have any more faith in me," he says, "I wouldn't harm a living being for the sake of a prank, no matter how funny it would be."

"I believe you," she says, maintaining eye-contact as she lifts the fish towards her ear. "For the sake of all those cinnamon rolls you're hoping to taste ever again."

The fish obviously wants to live in her ear, as it wriggles towards it and slips into the ear hole easily, but Obi-Wan can't exactly say he's envious of Sunshine - it probably feels weird intil it gets comfortable enough to forget that it's there.

"It's not of my Galaxy," he explains, "but it feeds o the equivalent of the Force, I think. Translates spoken words into brainwaves. We'll only really know if it works whan you get out to the ship, I imagine."

That he would never gamble with cinnamon rolls is a given.

With only a momentary grimace and expletive for the strange - and also blessedly momentary - sensation, the fish settles into Rae's ear as though it belonged there. She can't even feel it, which she supposes is a comfort.

"Will... it work in reverse, do you think? They'll be able to understand me in return?"

"I hope so," Obi-Wan says, with absoltuely no idea if it will or not. "If it doesn't, I can translate, at least. It won't harm your disguise to be a mysterious noblewoman who refuses to sully her tongue with Galactic Basic."

"Typical Lora," she replies, dry.

"I think it should work, at least in a short range around me. Normally, these fish aren't directly in our ears, right? Just around the bar, and that works just fine."

She hopes their little friend is up to the task.

"Exactly," Obi-Wan confirms. "And we can try it out before we have to go to the ball anyway.

"Speaking of which," he bows deeply and gestures to the door. "Is there anything else you'd like to know in advance?"

"Hmm, let's see," she considers the question. "I am Jynna Lora. The Lora are one of the elite ruling families of Imarr, a rather isolationist world on the far side of the inner rim from the outer rim and Scipio, where I -accompanied by my chosen Knight Sir Dash Cardon - have come to attend a ball being held by Jafan Typho. We may not know each other personally, but we share a disdain for the corruption of the Republic, and strong Separatist sympathies."

Her assured look checks for a moment, and she peers speculatively at Obi-Wan. "They call themselves Separatists?"

He nods: "The political entity is the Confederacy of Independent Systems, but 'Separatists' covers the ideology of breaking from the Republic as well as being a helpful word. When talking about the other side you would talk about 'the Republic,' and 'the Jedi' as the religious order that heads the military."

Jafan Typho. Scipio. Imarr. Confederacy of Independent Systems.

"Good to know. I didn't want to somehow give us away by using terms they wouldn't," she smiles. "Can't think of anything else to ask, just now."

"If you do, I'll be here," Obi-Wan says. "But I have absolute confidence in your ability to talk banthashit. Shall we?"

He gestures and then leads the way to the door, which slides rather than swings open on a small gunship. Standing there - not waiting, but with the attitude of someone who's just seen a door closed and was expecting it to open again immediately - is Fives.

Actually, not Fives. This man is older by a few years, his face carrying scars and no tattoo, and his armor, as well as having a number of differences in form and shape, is orange and white rather than blue.

He looks at Rae with zero recognition but also with only a fraction of the surprise one expect for a strange woman appearing in his ship from out of nowhere.

"Jinna Lora, I presume?"

His voice as well could pass for Fives if you weren't paying attention.

Sunshine doesn't disguise her amusement at the universality of talking bullshit, whatever form the bull takes, chuckling as she follows Obi-Wan onto the ship. The difference in the feeling of the place as she steps through the door is palpable to her in some way, though she would be hard-pressed to describe it adequately. Amid the delight at the adventure and the newness of the experience, she only has so much attention to pay to it. In any case there is an unfamiliar clone before her.

"That would be me," she affirms with a friendly smile. "Since Obi-Wan apparently didn't make the cut. You must be Cody."

"At your service, my Lady," Cody says, with a smart salute. Obi-Wan smiles warmly between them.

"Commander Cody, this is Rae, the baker."

That earns a double take, and an almost instant dissolution of military formality.

"The cinnamon buns lady?"

Sunshine laughs, delighted. "That would also be me. It's good to meet you, Cody."

Remind her to send Obi-Wan home with more food to share, going forward.

Edited 2021-05-04 19:41 (UTC)

"The General brings them back occasionally," Cody tells her. His demeanour stays respectful, but there's a sly smile there, sharing a secret tolerance for his general.

"I expect you might have to make him eat them while you watch, otherwise he'll just keep bringing them back for the men."

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