RPG THREAD: The Meet and Greet (Contardi and Alara)

Scourge Headquarters was a warehouse at best. Contardi Veigh could not ask for the luxuries she enjoyed with Black Sun. It was a bad economy, after all. But she did what she could with the central meeting area. Outfitted with second-hand plush lounge chairs and couches, a stained glass caf table, and an ornate Naboo rug (stolen, but no less pretty), Contardi was pleased with the slowly improving interior design of her headquarters. Her husband always complained about her expensive tastes, but Contardi preferred to refer as her tendency for spending as "class."

At any rate, the new impressionist painting that Contardi had acquired from a dead enemy’s apartment was not the topic of discussion for her presence in the gathering space. Contardi was settled in an executive chair that used to belong to her husband, and Isazu was lingering beside her with his datapad in hand.

"I sent word with your approval for Miss Jenya to accompany the heist."

"Hope she makes it," Contardi remarked without any hope, admiring her nails.

Isazu's datapad buzzed and his brow crinkled. "Your new employee has just arrived," Isazu told her.

"You always find the kindest words, Isazu," Contardi said with a thin smile. "Employee" was hardly the word Contardi would have used to describe Alara Maran. She was a purchased servant who would be in charge of the maintenance and cleanliness of Contardi's living space and the rest of Scourge. And certainly not for pay. "Send her up," Contardi instructed him.

Alara timidly entered, feeling more fearful even than when she was taken. She had no idea
what this person would be like. She bowed respectfully, and a little timidly, before the woman in the room. "I'm.....Alara, ma'am. I'm at your command." She hoped against hope that at least she would be fed decently. Oh, for the food at the cantina. Or even the rations the clones showed her, as tasteless as they were. Even here, the guilt sat heavy in her chest, the soldier's eyes meeting her's in her mind. "Can I get you anything, ma'am?" She ventured.

Contardi's yellow-green eyes worked over the Wroonian as she entered the room. She motioned wordlessly for the woman to sit in a seat near her, then she listened as Alara spoke. Her mouth opened into a perfectly formed "o," and she looked to Isazu for help, then back to Alara. A small and joyless smile crept across her lips.

"I've never had a slave before," Contardi remarked. Her tone was always low and melodious, a contrast to the sharp look in her eyes. She looked at Isazu and smiled, concealing a laugh behind her words. "How very quaint."

"Isazu will get us a drink," Contardi told Alara. She nodded to the Negai, who went to the freshly built bar and started mixing Contardi's favorite mint-flavored drink out of assumption.

"I am Contardi Veigh," she introduced herself finally. "I run a very tight business here. If I find you talking about anything you see or hear regarding myself, you will be terminated. But I do ask that you report anything suspicious you hear amongst the ranks to me." Contardi smiled thinly as Isazu came back over and handed her and Alara two martini glasses. It was practically the middle of the night or very early morning, but Contardi didn't sleep and neither did Isazu. At least, never since he started working for the Devaronian.

"Your more official duties will be keeping the building clean and reporting any maintenance problems that you cannot fix yourself. Oh, and whatever else comes to mind."

Isazu perched himself on a stool near the bar and went back to his datapad. His brow furrowed. "Our strike group hasn't reported in," he stated.

Contardi did not react, except for her right hand, which tightened on the end of her chair's armrest to the point that her knuckles turned white. She smiled when she regarded Alara. "I must warn you that you may see some unsightly violence in this business." She sipped her drink and let out an imperceptible sigh. "At any rate, Alara, what kind of work have you done in the past? Are you comfortable with cleaning? And do you cook?"

"Before I was..taken, I was a cantina waitress." Alara said, trying to relax a little. "I am very good at cleaning." She thought back to the cantina, and several of the dishes she'd prepared for the GAR garrison. It was some decent fare, but the clones were always just as pleased with the basics.
Contardi would not be so undemanding. "Our Cook was not the most reliable, so I had to do so as a matter of course. One of the things I did was prepare meals for the clone garrison stationed at the town."