Early morning, two days after the successful mission to Dateen, and a carefully selected group of individuals are summoned to Defiance Base's Briefing Room.  To the members of the recent expedition, one thing that becomes obvious is that not all of them have been called in for this briefing.  The ones who weren't part of that particular job are, of course, blissfully unaware of the missing members of the team.

Most of the people in the room have hot beverages, and some have even brought part of the breakfast with them.

Now it's just a matter of waiting to see what the briefing will be about it.  As yet, though, there is no sign of any of the senior Alliance personnel from the base.

OOC: Get to know each other a little, IC.  Colonel Kourene will probably be along shortly to give you work to do...

"Great.  New crew, probably new ship," Shard mutters as she wanders into the room, hot beverage steaming in her hand, her head throbbing.  Having managed a whopping one day of sobriety before breaking down, she's still suffering from her excess of the night before.  It doesn't help that her body aches along with her head; a day and a half of heavy exercise doesn't pay off in the short run (nor, if not continued, the long) except in pain.

So much for that leaf, but she'll find another to turn over.  When it's really needed.  Next time.

But she's also honest enough with herself to call that a lie.

"Morning," she mumbles.  It's waaaay too early for it to be 'good'.  Her eyes rove around the new arrivals, and the obvious stick-out is the Wookie.  So we traded in Narf, Mogg and Shisskurr for him.  The men in the group have probably gone into paroxyms of despair.  Plopping down in a seat, she leans back, rocking slightly on the chair's rear legs.  "Shard.  Pleased to meet you all."

It doesn't sound pleased; rather, Shard seems concerned.

Juragga entered, holding a steaming mug that others would call a bowl in one shaggy paw, and the broiled leg of some unfortunate mega-bird in the other.  His long shaggy hair was disheveled, and fell across his blue-green eyes.  Finding a seat, he plopped down heavily - causing other seats nearby to jump with the impact.

He growled a muffled rumble of apology, then took a draught of his steaming drink.  The scent of mulled wine wafted from the mug.  Just the thing to take the edge off his hangover.  He'd dreamed again last night, and only the hot wine had chased the ghosts away.  Now, he was paying the price - which is why he tried not to do that too often.  Fortunately, his massive constitution and Wookiee physique hid any tell-tale signs from the small furless ones around him - he hoped.  He didn't want to make a bad impression.

Smiling a fanged grin at Shard, he responded with a Wookiee warble of greeting.  Canting his furred head, he looked at the entryway, wondering when Haarmon would join them.  While wondering, he tore a massive chunk out of the giant bird leg and wolfed it down.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:18, Mon 11 Apr 2011.

The door opens and a short, skinny, slightly-funny looking kid comes in with a showy walk that's just a hair's width shy of a full-on strut. He wears some off-the-shelf brand name clothes that are probably his version of 'slumming it.' At his hip is an ornate gunslinger's holster with an Aurturean Blaster Mk XVII (Limited Anniversary Edition). The gold filigree shines and winks under the lighting from across the room.

"This where the meeting's at?" he calls out to no one in particular, "Hey! Ragga! There you are!"

He grabs a hot mug of coffee, adds enough sugar and cream to make it a lukewarm mug of latte and flops down next to the Wookie. He looks around, his nose wrinkled up just a little, like something smells bad.

Noticing Shard, he offers her a wink and a nod so exaggerated that either he's suavely self-satirical, or he's never kissed a girl.

K'thar joined the small group, entering with a walk that clearly made him pompous.  He strode over to the coffee and grabbed a cup of it, drinking it straight.  A long duelling sword hangs from one hip and he wears a many-colored, jury-rigged, mismatched pile of armor.

"Good morning, my new friends!"  K'thar made eye contact with Shard.  "It is indeed a pleasure to meet you as well."

Juragga nods and hoists his steaming mug of mulled wine at Haarmon's entrance, caterwauling a greeting.  Still chewing his birdzilla leg, he cants his head to one side and warbles hello to K'thar.

This was quite a collection of hairless monkeys he'd thrown in with.  Haarmon was a full-time job by himself, but the kid had saved him - and might yet help find his children.  Besides, a life-debt was a life-debt... and he wouldn't have it any other way.

He washed down the broiled bird-meat with a deep draught from his bowl-sized mug and smacked his lips.

Shard's eyes briefly unfocus as the Wookie warbles, and she blinks several times, struggling against the throbbing in her head.  "Argh," the older woman mutters as she waves back at Juragga - certainly their new squad-mate is enthusiastic, and she'd take that over 'surly'.

One eyebrow shoots up as she offers Haarmon a hesitant wave, then the second rises to join it as K'thar jovially storms the room (if that's not too much of a contradiction).  "Argh," she quietly repeats.  Enough.  Her patience already exhausted, Shard acts.

Burnished metal flashes in her hand as it slips out from under robe, and her finger flicks a small catch, freeing the safety.  Her thumb touches a button, something snaps as the smooth, steely device activates...

*glug*

...recapping the flask, Shard slips it back beneath her cloak and sips at her steaming mug, now fortified with a shot of possibly the worst Frenzie brandy she has ever tasted.

It was cheap.

"So," she rasps, coughing once.  "I guess we're in this next one together, then."  It's not a question.  "I do support - that is, I talk with people, help other people look for things, shoot lousy, and generally try to keep everyone alive, even though I'm not a medic."  Shard shrugs; she doesn't actually have much of a speciality, though given a moment to think things over she usually does decently at most things.

"What about you lot?"  She motions in the direction of the 'new people', about to become 'the group' in her head.  All she needs are names and places to slot them.

"My name is K'thar... and I am a Jedi.  I prefer to use my trusty sword here," he pats the longblade at his side, "to do battle with my villanous foes." K'thar squints his eyes at the words 'villanous foes' for emphasis.

Juragga took in Shard's wince, and his blue-green eyes noticed the deft use of the silver flask.  He nodded silently and smiled a wry, Wookiee grin.  Then, softly out of respect for Shard's, ah, condition, he rumbled his introduction.

"RawwGUHhhhrrAWWWuhhn," he said.  "Juragga ruhhhrr AWWWwww.  Ruuuu awWAaaan."

Or, loosely translated... "My name is Juragga.  I break things and I fix things.  It depends on what needs doing."

At K'thar's introduction, though, his teal eyes opened wide and he sputtered a bit of hot wine down his chin.  "WAAaaaaaaaaugh," he hooted, clearly Wookiee laughter.

Shard snorts at Juragga's amusement, even if she doesn't understand his words(yet - she used to know some Wookie, and with a little concentration might be able to bring it back).  She raises her cup in salute, then wiggles the flask inquiringly, perfectly willing to share.  She has more back at her locker, after all.

Again...cheap.

But her face falls at K'thar's explanation and she pops the top of the flask again, this time taking a long swig of the straight liquid.  Oh, stupid...it's horrid.  Coughing, Shard shakes her head.  At least the foul liquor gives her a reason to look disgusted.  "K'thar," she greets the 'Jedi' hoarsely.

We're doomed, I swear we're doomed.  The Colonel's punishing me, I know it....

At least the Wookie finds it amusing.  It makes Shard want to beat her head against the table.

Rhijans had stood, silently, off to one side.  He didn't do small talk, generally...he could, when the situation called for it.  That was what had led them to Zaerd.

Instead of talking, he turned a calculating gaze on the group.  Shard was...well, back to the condition she'd been in before the run to Ker Zaineer.  The Wookiee...Rhijans shrugged, inwardly.  It was early for wine, but he wasn't familiar with Wookiees--maybe mulled wine was a breakfast drink for them.  He doubted it...but he was willing to give the hairy beast the benefit of the doubt and assume he could take care of himself.

The...kid...that was the only word that came to mind...walked in, and Rhijans carefully avoided overtly rolling his eyes or snickering.  Too much flash and flair, wanting to be taken seriously without knowing how to really get it done.  Yep...their wannabe-sharpshooter was definitely going to take some watching.  Steady hands on the reins, a firm voice telling him to sit down and shut up before he got them all killed...  If the kid stayed with them for three months...and survived it...he might actually be half as dangerous as he looked like he wanted people to think he was.

But Rhijans couldn't help himself, though, when K'thar made his introduction.  An audible snort of disdain escaped, followed by a couple of coughs and a few mild curses in various languages as the hot coffee spilled on his hand.  A Jedi?  He'd had his doubts about Dawl...but at least she carried a lightsaber.

He spoke, his voice carefully neutral.  "Colonel Kourene hates us," he said, to Shard and Jacobs.  It was the only explanation that made any sense to him.

"I shouldn't have been so insistent about that last reimbursement, I guess..."

When Mark heard the comment of being a Jedi, he turned his head to look K'thar over. He didn't snort after Rhijans' comment, but waited and watch the man with mismatched pieces of tin over his body.

"Nice bit of armor you got there." Mark smiled as he commented on K'thar's appearance. "Very subtle, and effective I'm sure."

Mark gave the Wookiee a nod. He didn't give any indication if he understood Juragga or not.

Mark didn't bother to introduce himself, yet.



rolled 10 using 3 dice with the WEG Classic system with rolls of 4,{Wild}4,2. Alien Species understand Wookiee.

K'thar grinned broadly, "Why thank you, I did make it myself... you know.  I'm glad someone has a sense of taste, at least.  It has been quite effective in my previous trials, yes indeed.  Quite the observant one, you are."

Rhijans' expression looked remarkably similar to a man who had discovered a pet's 'present' on the bedroom floor, the hard way.  The kid had been bad enough...but the 'Jedi'?  He wasn't even good enough to fake being a Jedi convincingly.  And for all the faith that Rhijans utterly lacked in Jedi, the one thing that could have pleased him less than having one was having someone who claimed to be one, but had none of the skills. The only good thing he could see coming out of this was that, maybe, the kid would recognize what kind of a buffoon the 'Jedi' was and develop some common sense.  Maybe.

He said nothing, shaking the spilled coffee from his hand, and looked around for a towel or dishcloth to clean up the spill.  Shoulda stayed in bed, he mused.  For that matter, I shoulda stayed in Ker Zaineer.  Hell, I shoulda never come to this sector of space to begin with.