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| - Bren steps off the shuttle ramp and brings up a free hand to shield his eyes from the afternoon glare of the sun as he looks around. Not being on this rock in some time Bren steps down from the ramp and walks away from it a few feet before stopping to look around and take in his surroundings Twila is milling around, the Twi'lek woman chatting with some of the workers and CorSec people while hanging out on her day off. As she speaks and gestures with her arms, she tugs her robes about her as if not used to them being in the way. The Red Dwarf gives a loud hiss as soon as the repulsorlifts are cut off, the hatch starting to open slowly. As soon as the thing starts to open up, the air seems to vibrate along with the music which emits from the interior. Cubitt walks past the hatch from the interior, but never out of the ship itself, apparently busy with something. Bren lowers his free hand as his eyes get used to the glare of the sun as he keeps looking around at the different races and people running around the port. Reaching down he idly brushes some dust off his pants before slowly walking forward towards an exit slowly not even really knowing where he is going. A red pin shows against the dark fabric of his clothing marking him as a member of the medical professions for anyone to look at easily. Twila watches the medical guy leave and then she shrugs, her eyes falling upon a familiar ship and she stands up, excusing herself from the group she was chatting with to go and see what Cube's up to. "Hey..you in there.." she calls out while rapping a fist upon something resembling a door, the sound rather hollow as she does so. "Can I come and say hi?" Cubitt almost trips over himself while walking through the cargo hold, head turning slightly in response to the disembodied voice. It takes a few minutes to think up a response, mostly due to the bottles of spice brandy he would really like to be well hidden just in case. Their not illegal, but considering his last visit..well..yah. "No!" he shouts out, the music suddenly becoming even louder after that short retort. Twila frowns and shakes her head, her eyes lowering. She takes a moment for Cubitt to stow his 'cargo' before she knocks on the cargo bay door again, this time a little more urgently. "Are you mad at me?" she asks quietly, perhaps not able to be heard over the blaring music. "I am..sorry." Shrugging, she walks off as if she might leave the spaceport entirely. Cubitt sighs deeply while turning off the music and moving himself to the hatch to take a seat on the end of the ramp. The guy's hair is sticking up in all different directions, body literally coated in sweat. "Sorry about what!?" he shouts while eyes stay fixed on the retreating figure. Twila turns around, her robes billowing about her legs thanks to a slight breeze the skitters along the tarmac for a few seconds before dying down, again. "For..does it matter what I am apologizing for? I am saying I'm sorry and you can either take it or not. Doesn't really matter to me." Offering the man a shrug and a smile, she takes in Cube's haphazard appearance before she turns around again and then, coming from over her shoulder, "You need a shower." Cubitt grunts a bit while laying back on the ramp, hands clasping and moving under his head for comfort. "Then why don't ya just come over here and have a sit down wit me hmm? Git whateva ya got in yer system out and then retreat from dis 'ere battle hmm?" Shrugging, Twila turns back around and returns to Cube's ship, slipping the robes off and hanging them up on what she's hoping is a clean strut before joining him on the ramp, sitting with her legs hanging over the edge as she faces away from her friend. "There's nothing in my system, really. Just wanted to say I am sorry. But I was only doing my job, you know?" Cubitt turns his head to face her a moment before diverting his attention to the sky, "Don't even know why I'm all pissy do ya?" His lips twitch into the ever so rare frown, "Guess it was me own undoin'....I guess." Twila shrugs. "Not really. Hey. Grab one of those bottles you were trying to hide and let's share some, I am thirsty." Shifting slightly, she lays on the ramp once she makes a bit of room for her to do so and she pillows her head with her arms. "Anyhow, no. I do not know. But I am sure you'll tell me." She smiles as she looks at the human male sidewards, smiling a bit at him as she shrugs. Oren walks out of one the nearby terminals. He stops, looking about the starport. He watches the busy activity around him. A Bothan bumps him from behind almost knocking him down. The alien mumbles something and Oren rights himself. His face turns angry and he says, "Watch where you're going, you nerf herder!" Oren steps off of the walkway, away from the main traffic. Twila, sitting on Cube's docking ramp, the man himself apparently comatose and not talking at the moment, notices Oren and smirks at him as she watches him makes his way around the crowds. "Poor guy.." Oren slowly walks about the starport, examining the different ships. He pauses at a few of the ships, talking with various people standing around their ships. He turns his head as he overhears Twila's remark and looks at the person the remark was spoken to. Cubitt grunts once more, "This coming from the woman that knocked me upside the head a time or two. And you know feckin' well dat I's just bein pissy cuz I'm all jealous..ya jest wanna here me shout it all out fer ya..." quieting his rant for a few minutes then speaking once more, "Bottles are in the pallette under crate 'C', second from the left." Standing, Twila disappears into the ship where sounds of rattling and other such noises come from within the cargo hold, along with the clatter of metal upon metal as a few of Cube's tools come crashing about her, causing her to yelp as something unseen to the outside world misses her head and lekku by a few inches. Wincing as she looks out, she tries to see if she is going to be laughed at. "Found it.." she murmurs out while catching sight of Oren again, her hand suddenly appearing with a bottle within its grasp. "Also found your tool locker. You..forgot to secure it." Bren walks into the starport looking around at a few folks as he wanders around aimlessly for a few moments. A whiff of air as a ship takes off wizzs by making the young man's raven dark hair fly up before settling back as it is tied back today. On his chest he wears a bright red pin, showing contrast against the dark fabric he wears showing him as one of the healing profession. Cubitt gives a slight nod to the bottle, "Guess you get da first swig, went ta' git it n'all." stretching his legs out a bit more. "And don't go writin' me up fer nah' damn tools either! Cuz I can hear plenty good ya know..an' I know ya's all in there messing up mah' arragements o' mah things." Bren walks into the starport looking around at a few folks as he wanderse around aimeslessly for a few momments. A whiff of air as a ship takes off wizzs by making the young man's raven dark hair fly up before settling back as it is tied back today. On his chest he wears a bright red pin, showing contrastly against the dark fabric he wears showing him as one of the healing profession. "If you insist." The bottle's cracked upon and Twila takes a sip from it, not really even caring who sees her as she's happily off duty. The booze gets her to cough a bit, Colonel Virda apparently not one of the kind to drink hard alcohol, normally, but she manages a weak smile despite the burning in her gut. "Smoooth..What is it?" She looks around as she struggles to get her breath, her eyes watery, making it hard to see anyone at the moment. Cubitt grabs at the bottle himself, head tilting back along with the brandy, taking quite a bit more than a sip before extending the stuff back to his crazy Twi'lek friend. "I think ya be drinkin a bit more than I do if'n this fodder is smooth to ya.." looking up a bit to get a good view of her, smiling at the watery eyes. "Ya know..I'm jest gonna end up all tipsy again and tryin' ta seduce da pants off ya again right?" Oren steps over towards Cubitt, "Sorry to bother you. But did I hear correctly, that you would drink after that creature?" He looks towards Twila as he motions his hand in her direction. His eyes narrow as he looks Twila up and down. He turns back towards Cubitt, watching as Cubitt takes a big swig of the liquor. His face cringes in disgust at Cubitt's last comment. Auo roars past Bren in the passenger seat of a hired repulsor-skiff, the driver missing him by at least two feet. "At the Station...," he points, "Sith-spit man, you almost hit that fellow," he can be heard to complain loudly as his hired vehicle tears past. As the skiff pulls up in front of Corsec Station 17 with a cloud of dust and the roar of reversed power, he leaps out, face flushed, and glares at the driver as he counts out a few credits in cash. The sounds of the starport can be heard quite keenly as Bren walks down through the many people going here and there. Stopping near one ship he looks around wondering just where all these people are in a rush to. One man bumps into him by accident onyl to turn around and yell at the young man for standing there. Shaking his head after the Twi'lek gentleman yells he says something back to him in Ryl making the man smile slightly and laugh before patting him onto the shoulder and walking off. "This...'creature'...as you put it, is the third in command of the Corellian Security Forces and .." Twila had started her little 'gentle comment' by looking down at her fingers as if examining her nails but she's quick to lock her gaze with the human's, her lips curling downward into quite a sneer. "I think you better shut your mouth before you wind up having a very bad day." The bottle is reclaimed from Cube, who is also nudged by her shoulder for his comment but it's the other man she looks at, her body tensing as she expects a fight, Bren and Auo ignored for now. Cubitt leans up a little, getting a good look at Oren, then lays back down comfortably. "Ya know darlin'...I jest sharpened mah blade 'ere and ain't had a chance ta dull it any. If'n ya wanna borrow it I understand...or ya wanna see some new moves I learned wit it? Real interestin' fellow on ol' Mon Cal showed me em.." reaching for the bottle himself. Oren keeps looking at Cubitt as he begins to talk. His jaw visibly clenches as Twila talks but he does not respond or even glance at her. He extends his hands towards Cubitt, e retracts it after the blade comment. "Name's Oren. Why would you be talking to this creature with the hopes of being seduced by...it. Friend, let me introduce to a new way of life. Let me tell you what the universe should be like. This third rate," He purposely changes Twila's words of 'third in command', "creature is below you." Bren shakes his had at the man as he can catch just a part of what the man has to say. Walking up to the man yet keeping his distance his eyes narrow slightly at the man. "Excuse me sir I am sorry to interrupt but I do believe you owe me an apology for that almost accident and also for the words you just said. I prefer normally to stay neutral in my offer of help but I am afraid if you do not take back your words then I might just have to give sub-standard medical help when you have a sword through your belly Bren shakes his head slightly at the hazardous actions of some in the city before looking around and shaking his head. Taking a few steps to start walking his ears make him stop cold as he hears the words spoken onyl by what could be an imperial elitist trying to either get himself killed or picking a fight. Walking around the ship he was standing next to he comes into view of the three people, two sitting and one standing looking all too much imperial. Shaking his head he speaks up in perfect pitch to be heard. "I am sorry to interrupt my friend sand other folk but I do believe my services are close to be needed here unless some over zealous bigot decides to take back his words and walk away" With that said he looks coldly into the man's eyes and nods slightly before talking again. "Sir I am known by many to keep my services neutral to the imperial and to anyone else including republic and even more then that but if you continue talking the way you are I will indeed have a moral dilemma of helping you when you are either ran through or grabbing a blaster wound" Auo jumps back a step as the skiff driver roars off in the direction he came, a line of what looked to be invective, judging from the shaken fist, drowned out with the noise. He stands there for a few moments before finally heaving a sigh, and walking over to the small booth outside the security station. He steps inside and comes back out with a folding campaign chair, which he thumps down on the hot tarmac with something exceeding the necessary to ensure its solid footing. Oren turns slightly, regarding this new voice behind him. He smirks as he inspects Bren. "I don't think your services are needed at this time. I was just talking to," he motions towards Cubitt, "this fellow right here. You call me a bigot but I would say that I am a realist. There is a group that is universe-wide. They don't have to be Imperial or Republic to be in this elite group. You have been misguided, friend." He clasps his hands together in front of him, almost like he is in prayer. "You have been sold lies your whole life. These creatures are nothing to us." Twila nods slowly as she sets the bottle down and stands up, her eyes narrowed, her expression grave, something Cubitt might recognize as being signs of an impending lash out by the woman. Oren's sized up after she shakes her head to Bren, silently asking him to stay out of it, and then, with what one might consider to be a sucker punch, the Twi'lek aims a shot for Oren's left cheek (she's right handed), screaming something in Ryl as she does. Cubitt leans the bottle back once more, getting down a good sized swig before wiping at his lips slowly in time with Twila's standing. *Clank* The bottle is set down on the ramp, the sloppy looking man sliding to his feet smoothly. "Not da smartest o' things ta be sayin'.." is the only comment he makes after a hand moves to just above his shoulder, fingers lacing around the hilt of his sword. Citizens and merchant pilots alike take shuffled steps back and away from the small group of violent persons. Some shout for a good show, others look from side to side in an effort to spot any approaching CorSec officers to spoil the show. All in all, its turned into quite the scene with only one punch thrown. Oren 's hands slowly unclasp as he finishes his speech to Bren. He looks to Bren, waiting for a response. He says, "The IKOTC is..." but his words are lost when his head is violently turned to the side because of Twila's punch. Spittle flies out of his mouth as he grabs his cheek in pain. His face reddens immediately and he turns towards Twila. His teeth are bared and he says, "Why you little slut! How dare you touch me with your alien hands. I am an Imperial officer. You will suffer for your actions." He grabs towards Twila's clothes, hoping to throw her to the ground. Bren takes a step back at the motion from the lady on the ramp shaking his head at the man before him. After watching the marvelous punch he chuckles. "Even imperial dogs must learn to cower from time to time to learn who they serve." At the sound of shrieking in Ryl Auo nearly topples backward in his campaign chair, stumbling to his feet. He squints against the last vestiges of daylight around the spaceport from his position near the Security building, trying to locate the source of the sound. A Horribly painted ship swoops down into the bay, painted in black with a great number of bright green zeros and ones on it's surface. Soon after this landing, the pleasure locks on the boarding ramp disengage, and then the ramp itself is lowered gently to the ground via the Hydraulics that fold out from behind it as it opens. Standing, ready to depart, is a black-cloaked figure, who's single red 'eye' gleams form the shadows of his hood. He steps down the ramp, metal feet clanging against the metal of the ramp announcing his presence to those near enough to hear over the noise of the port. He takes a few moments to evaluate the scene, and then heads towards where the action is. "I'd prefer you didn't touch the Twi'lek lass..." This is said in the clipped tones of a Coreworlder, and the speaker appears from behind the group, a bag in his hand, indicating that he might just have gotten off of a ship. Delede is wearing the battered clothes of a spacer, and is wearing a vibro-blade, and wearing a heavy blaster low on his hip. He also, does not look like a particularly happy fellow, at the moment. "Gettin' into trouble, lass?" This is directed at Twila, before Gren tosses a death stick that had been hanging from his mouth to the ground. "An Imperial Officer, you say? I was a Major, what about you, kid?" A few more steps, and he approaches the altercation, a little smile on his face. The tight bodysuit that Twila wears is not so tight that Oren can't get a hold of her, the man able to get quite a grip on each of her shoulders. "Hmmm!" she grunts as she finds herself flat on her back, her breath leaving her as the wind is knocked from her lungs. Bright lights flash in her eyes as she tries to get up, but with how she can barely inhale her struggles are rather ineffective. Delede and the others are lost to her as she has something else a bit more important to deal with, namely getting off the ground and taking the Imp out. Cubitt's sword leaves the sheathe quicker than even he thought possible. The shine of the pitted metal glares as the blade arcs near Oren and halts, the point slowly nearing. "Hands off, I don't give nah' flyin' fodder who n' what ya are. But ya deserved dat smack upside dat there thick ol' noggin o' yers. Now if'n ya think dat unfair..well..tuff nuts pal, cuz I got a hankerin' ta be shovin' this 'ere thing in yer throat." Auo shouts and signals to the squad of a dozen CorSec cops and half of them break up into pairs, fanning across the tarmac in the general direction of the shrill noise. The rest move toward the eastern and southern gates, not drawing their firearms but obviously tense. He follows them, although a good twenty-feet behind the center pair, speaking quietly into a small communit. Wibble meanders out of his ship in the space port, a pit droid walking along behind him, and a small black football-shaped something hovering along behind him. Stepping out of the shuttle, the corporate blue twi'lek glances left and right and sighs. Her lekku also with a feeling of exasperation, she trudges through the always crowded spaceport with a hurry and a single-mindedness to get away from the fumes of starcraft. She coughs a little and hurries on her way, already signaling a coworker about her impending arrival and hoping the folks won't disappoint with a messy showroom. Oren turns his attention from Twila to Cubitt, though he keeps her in his peripheral vision. "Whoa friend." He puts his hands in front of him, waving them slightly from side to side. "There is no need to be a hero here. Imperial blood on your hands would not lengthen your life. This pitiful creature," he points to Twila with his right hand, "should not be worth your valuable time. I have done nothing but defended myself. There is no need for your threat of violence." From somewhere in the robes what appears to be a club emerges, and then suddenly the tip sparks into life. He holds out the other hand, shoving his way through the crowd, hearing the noise and then the voice that matched the ESPO's he had encountered recently. The crowd aren't pleased about being shoved aside as he makes his way to the scene, but no one really wants to disagree with him. He waits when he sees the scene, and takes in the scene before he does anything. The droid is suddenly distracted as a little beacon passes on his HUD, Ayam. He appears torn, and looks at Twila, then the light in his stun-baton blinks out... then at the imperials words, back on. Wibble watches from the landing pan he's standing on, meandering to the edge and looking down at the scene of the droid whirling along through the crowd, chasing someone down. Gren quirks an eyebrow, as Cubitt draws his sword, and makes threats to the Imperial, not pausing in his own steps, as he approaches Twila, and kneels slightly, offering her a hand to her feet, his eyes flicking back up to Oren, Cubitt, and the CorSec squad that has arrived. Delede looks up at Oren, from his kneeling position, and adds, since his original words were ignored.."Imperial blood on his hands would shorten your life, and I think it's a valuable trade." A glance to Cubitt, and a dry.."Just finish it, buddy...one little thrust, and he's done for." He's quite the officer of the peace, when he's back in the CSA, really. Wibble glances at his pit droid and claps his hands. "Go get some snacks!" he says, plopping down on the edge of the landing pad and sticking his legs out over the rails, letting them dangle as he looks down at all the exciting happenings. Boy-oh-boy! He peers real intently at the droid some more. "Hmmm, that looks like a...hey, wait, didn't he....hmmm," he says, largely to himself. Auo steps from around the fuselage of the Red Dwarf after the pair of CorSec officers and gapes for a moment. "Colonel! That... that was you. Are you hurt?" he says as he jogs forward, slowing a bit as the good Samaritan offers her his assistance - and after a surreptitious analysis of the fellow. His eyes move from person to person in the strange crowd, and his Coruscant-accented voice demands, "What in... /what/ is going on here?" "Spread. Your. Racist. Lies! ELSEWHERE!" Twila screams at Oren just before Delede gets her on her feet, each word punctuated with kicks at the hapless Imperial soldier's knees, trying to add just that more insult to injury, apparently not happy with the thought of only getting a punch in. Looking around, she notices the crowd for the first time and she draws in a hissing breath, non-too-pleased with the attention the fight created. "Go on! Get AWAY! I got everything in hand!" Oren begins backing up from the blade wielding Cubitt. He glances nervously towards the nearby CorSec squad. He looks down at Delede and then to each individual before him as they all seem to be looking his way. Watching those in front of him he speaks towards the squad. "Officer," he seems to almost stammer. "Officer, justice needs to be served here." He seems to pick up a little confidence as he talks to the squad. "I am an Imperial Officer. I want to bring charges against that slu...alien right there." He points out Twila. "She has assaulted an Imperial Navy Officer. Do your jobs, officers." He looses focus of Twila for a split second but is reminded of her presence by a sharp pain in his shin. He lazily blocks another kick and grabs his hand in pain. "Get her!" Cubitt just gives a slight smirk in reply to both Oren and Delede, the tip of his sword inching forward just a bit further but never touching skin. "I gots a suggestion fer ya, boyo. Now I's only bein dis nice cuz I jest finished cleanin' dis 'ere blade and I's thinkin' imperial blood is all kindsa hard ta wash out." A smile begins to spread across his lips in time with the man's rantings, "Ok, well...I guess I can't be all nice nah' more..ya poor bastard..." arm tensing while positioning for a good straight thrust, but the squad of CorSec has him reluctantly pausing. With Twila back on her feet, Gren drops a hand to the heavy blaster on his hip, and watches Oren quietly, a slight smirk crossing his face. "I think, boy, that you missed the part where that fellow.." A casual with his free left hand toward Auo.."Called her Colonel." Delede sets his feet slightly, and continues staring at Oren..."Or, maybe you didn't miss it, and your just stupid." Another slight pause, and the starfighter pilot continues with a wry smirk.."Those CorSec officers know something about loyalty to their comrades, something I know Imps can't grasp. Learned that, long time ago." Still, he does spare a look toward the CorSec squad, and Cubitt, and everyone else who might be armed, and twitchy.."Just so were clear, if anyone tries to touch her, without her permission, there'll be a right nice bloodbath, I assure you." He's a cop, back home, really. "Son, go on and finish the racist bastard..." This is directed in a soothing tone toward Cubitt and his sword. Auo sidles slowly toward the tableau, his voice measured but firm as he says, "Mr. Tethes, I'll have you drop that piece of metal now. In your cups again, is it? I'll have you up on public drunkenness and disturbing the peace, this time. That's community service or a hefty fine!" He then quickly turns toward Oren, "Imperial Officer? Not declared anyhow," he points at the plain shirt and breeches the fellow is wearing. "'Fraid there's no evidence of wrong-doing that I can see, just a woman lying on the tarmac and you standing over her. You'll be on your way or I'll show it to you." Zed is not satisfied with this and, as no one even talks to him, makes a powerful swing at the imperial. Maybe he'd get a hit in, and even if he does, it's just a stun baton. He could de activate and be dragged back to NovaCom for 'maintenance' if things got hairy. Being a droid is fun. Twila looks at Auo and shakes her head, trying to tell him that Cube's actually sober, the man only having had a few drinks of the bottle and was just trying to help her but the words won't come. Finally, after a moment, she motions to two CorSec guards, having them detain Oren, and it is only then that she speaks about what happened. "This...scum came up and spewed his filthy ideas about how I am beneath people and I.." The sight of the stun baton being swung has her wincing and, lo and behold, she steps between Oren and Zed. "EVADE" The droid commands as it is too late to retract the command from his motivator, the baton striking Twila hard, and zapping her with neuro-supressing electricity. ...and the Twi'lek's out for the count.
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