[be] Port of Call [Alvega, Sheva]

Adam

The Shrine — a dingy bar in the middle of the station, and my favorite port of call. I've become intimately familiar with the bartenders here over my week stay, extended due to complications in the negotiations with Lady Corinne's people. I like this place more than the upscale bar on the observation deck for many reasons — not the least of which is that it doesn't have any windows. It's crowded with salt-of-the-earth types, the common workers of the station, and transients between systems. It reminds me of my time on pilgrimage, and in the lower ranks of the anvil. The walls are adorned with a collection of religious artifacts salvaged from before the purge, and the liquors are well stocked.

I'm sitting at the bar, sipping at an imported whiskey and enjoying the music.

Alvega, what are you doing here?

Wilper

The commander had mentioned that he would be spending much time in the bars, and she had not seen him on the observation deck where she had eaten most of her meals. So some cautious questions had led her to The Shrine. She wanted to speak more with him, find out first hand what kind of man he was, so that she could anticipates his moves better. Her husband had many enemies, some more dangerous than others, where did this man stand on that scale? Could he be turned into an ally? If not to her husband, perhaps to her?

Too long had the Baron held her like a colorful bird in the cage that was the palace. But storm clouds were rising on the horizon and she needed cards on hand to play the dangerous game. Because those who had none were bound to wills and actions of those who played. She didn't like the direction the game seemed to take.

While not actively disguising herself she had attempted to at least be as inconspicuous as the situation allowed.

The elaborate dresses had been traded for a simple space uniform. It was her own, one of those that she had worn on the Justified Wrath once she had stopped being just a hostage, and had taken command of the surgical bay following the death of her predecessor. Though still a hostage of sorts. It was clean, but had some light wear, not enough to make her look sloppy, but sufficient to not draw any attention for being too fresh.

During her few public appearances on Xuria she had worn the elaborate makeup of courtly fashion. Now her face was clean except for thin black lines to accentuate her eyes, and black stick to her lips in the manner permissible to women on duty on hammer ships. Someone who didn't expect her would not identify her for who she was. But her length and slender build made her stand out in the crowd. The simple makeup did nothing to diminish her beauty.

She scanned the room for the Commander, and after spotting him, she found a place near the bar where he would be able to see and recognize her, thus making their meeting one of chance.