Drifting into Settlement

[Sunaxe]

A strong whiff of smoke stirred him from his reader. Sniffing twice rapidly, Artell raised his eyes left where a new companion leaned bodily on glimmering, laminated bar, a cigarra pinched purposely beside her lips. Oh no. After three days avoiding the worst of the scented vices, he was not going to smell acrid prior to his meeting. Breathing deeply, he thumbed off his reader and hooked his small pack off his knee, dropping it in then retrieving his wallet. It was his fourth favorite. The leather was pretty veridian with a gentle magnetic pad. It was also the only one holding his real identification. “‘Tender,” Artell called. He placed the payment closer to bartender’s side. He’d been using the earnings from pazaak and sabacc games to cover his expenses during his visit, winning enough to warrant some notice for being a decent player but not enough to rankle ire. He looked above the bar at the screens, scanning for the winners of the races while tugging his duster snugly over his shoulders. Maybe he’d bet, if the odds truly were unpredictable; a real enough gamble could still excite him. More than a game table ever would anymore. Admitting a tip, Artell wished the bartender farewell and escaped the smoke. After a glance at his chrono, he figured there was time enough for another game and then a celebratory dessert. - There wasn’t a celebratory dessert. There was comfort dessert in the form of a fudgy brownie that Artell ate while scowling and replayed the game over and over in his head to determine how he had lost. He was still no closer to that answer when he made his way to the part of the tower he was to be interviewed. To be hired. He wanted this. At least he thought so. Hutt space was in general turmoil (but when wasn’t it). Was it the nagging in the stress points of his shoulders to find something more permanent, because, for star’s sake, he definitely wasn’t getting younger and hustling was a constant effort? Or was this just part of his basic instincts that if he didn’t experience something, he would be missing out? Or had the stress of potentially accumulating a bounty or two driven him to this? He should probably check his public record. “You may come in now.” A twi’lek stood over him, and Artell lifted his head from his palm, nodded, and rose to enter a room with two important looking women. His gaze went head, belt, boots on the Zabrak with presence, but the way she was turned let him know the pale, white haired woman was the one he needed to address. “Hello,” he greeted warmly. “Artell Karradi. Pleased to meet you. Here to discuss how I can use my skills for your benefit, and why it’s a good thing.”

[Meira]

Things were better. Not great, but better. She really couldn't complain. No, things weren't like they'd been before the Archeri came. But that wasn't a reasonable expectation of normal. Not anymore. What remained of the Jolly Janitors were all still employed. That, if nothing else, was good. Her own prospects aside, Ylva couldn't live with herself if they'd all been lost or left destitute. Even so, her own prospects were good as well in the grand scheme of things. Case in point, she still had access to the all-you-can-eat buffet.

Ylva moved along the line, completely ignoring anything that hadn't had a pulse at some point before being cooked. By the time she was done, she'd constructed an impressively sound tower of protein. Her eyes twinkled and she licked her lips as she carried the plate away from the dining area and toward the lifts. She wasn't late, but she didn't have time to eat before heading up to the meeting. Whoever they were interviewing would just have to deal.

Ylva's presence at this interview was indicative of the continued trend of "better" in her life and standing with the Exchange. Her return to Lidah's employ had started quiet, with Ylva taking what work Lidah had that kept her at more of a distance. It allowed the angrier people within the Exchange to cool their engines, as it were. As Ylva slowly took assignments closer to home, she was able to repair a few bridges. Simone had even agreed to see her. And while Lidah had insisted from the start that she held no grudge against Ylva, it would be a lie to say it didn't feel good to know that others were starting to come around as well. This interview would be yet another step in solidifying Ylva's position of trust with Lidah in the eyes of the rest of the Exchange.

She entered the room, giving Lidah a nod in greeting as she tore into a piping hot chunk of nerf-on-a-stick. It wasn't until she set the plate down near one of the empty seats at the conference table that she realized she hadn't brought anything to drink. Letting out a soft growl under her breath, Ylva looked around until she saw a side table with a jug of water and a number of cups. It was better than nothing. Crossing the room, Ylva picked up one of the cups and began to pour. Then, remembering her manners -perhaps for the first time in history- she picked up another and poured. Turning, she brought the second cup over to Lidah, setting it down near the Compeer, and drank from her own as she moved back toward her own seat.

Ylva was still standing when there was a soft tone from the door and it opened. A Twi'lek -Ylva couldn't remember their name, stepped in, followed by a human who took the initiative and introduced himself. Ylva's eyes moved over the man, much as his had done to her. He was tall, at a level with herself, but... otherwise nothing too remarkable at first glance. He wouldn't have been Jolly Janitors material, but Ylva doubted Lidah had such qualifications in mind today. Ylva gave the man a nod, but deferred to the ranking member of the room to speak first as she took her seat and tore into another piece of meat.