Log:A Drink with the General
A message, cloak and dagger perhaps, or maybe it's simply an invitation. No sender listed, just the words 'A drink with an old friend?' making up the content. It's a risk in itself, walking into the unknown, but the small bar on Corellia doesn't seem to show any of the outward signs that might scream trap to the eyes of someone experienced in looking for such a thing. Of course, stepping in is only the first part of things. Even ordering a drink doesn't cause the other party to 'materialize'. Could it be a hoax?
'Officially' retired Major Greystorm is about to find out. Brain repetatively ticking through a list of potential parties responsible for the note, Ambrosia abandons her taxi a brisk three minute walk from the designated bar and approaches on foot. She isn't prowling alone, however. Emerald eyes flick casually to the left from the skewing shadow of her hood to ensure that her son is keeping pace. There are many shinies strutting the streets here at night, after all.
It wasn't often that Jax rode shotgun with the major or kept her back. Though the young smuggler looked relax as he walked with her flanking her. Somebody with a trained eye would realize he's watching people that seem suspicious and keeping track of exits. The shinnies if they were leaving him alone for the most part. When he moves like this it hard for him to hide the Corsec training which probably screams COP to said Shinnies. He gives Amber a grin, "I know better than to get lost and fall behind."
It'd be a tense ten minutes or so of...nothing. Waiting. One just has to be sure. Eventually however a figure would move from the back. Just another spacer, a non-human it would seem, with a respirator helmet and suit to help them survive an atomosphere not intended for their species. They hadn't touched a drink, they'd simply sat with the small group in the corner, so when the stranger finally approaches where the retired Major and her son rest, it might seem just a little odd.
"Buy you a drink?" the being asks, voice sounding more like a droid then anything else with the VOX of the helmet systems.
Any movement from the unbranded Major is subtle in response. An incline of the chin, flutter of lashes as she sweeps a cursory glance, and the soft brush of her thumb over a hilt blanketed by the duster. Her tongue works behind a set of teeth too young to biologically be her own, but they make for a pretty smile when at last she says "What's the occasion?" and unfurls unarmed fingers of her left hand to motion invitingly at the seat across.
Jax was sipping a Corellian ale bought in the 10 minute wait as nothing stands out in a bar like people you know not drinking. He leans on the bar castng a glance to the alien but doesn't say anything as it was directed at the Major. His eyes going back to the Boloball game at the moment. Rodian vs. Etti IV.
"Reunions." The alien says simply, then it's gloved hands go up to the helmet to work a few clasps. It's a process that takes several seconds before the mask comes away with a hiss, placed down on the countertop to reveal a face likely more worn then perhaps the last time it had been seen by the major, but certainly no less human. "Between old friends."
Smiling, the face of the former princess turned Rebellion leader, senator and now finally General Leia Organa looks at the pair. "It's just a shame it's not in better circumstances."
An honest look of surprise lifts Amber's brows out of their pensive squint and her right hand relaxes away from /its/ old friend to join its mate on the tabletop. "Well I'll be..." she glances at Jax and his game-watching before bowing her chin a touch more formally. "Number four on my list of suspects. This does call for a drink, indeed. Perhaps you'd better order double, to catch up." A nod to her own glass, slick with foam and not much else.
Okay Jax hadn't been expecting the General herself if it had been the Resistance. He knew Mom had been a 'Big Deal' and dad too buuuuttt well hadn't really believed it completely. So he nearly chokes on his beer. He coughs into his had sitting the beer down. He gives a half grin and a half bow of his head, "Your Royal Highness."
The Generals smile actually broadens a little, but she signals for a drink none the less. She turns to Jax, a wave of her hand and a shake of her head. "No. Just an old friend today. Here for a drink and to talk about the past and the future." Leaning fowards towards the counter she looks at the bartender, giving a little nod towards the humanoid who returns it and then simply walks away. Perhaps a little more preparation had gone into this meeting then first glance would suggest. "Things in the galaxy have been a little unsettling for a while now. The Senate has been divided on a few recent events. Things have changed from thirty years ago." A pause now and the former princess sips her drink slowly, placing it down and looking between the two. "Other things? They've stayed the same."
"I know," Ambrosia empathizes with a somber smile, something akin to nostalgia glazing her expression over, ignoring the sputtering of her offspring. "We the remnants...those who are among the living - the ghosts that time forgot. Some of us still haunt old stomping grounds, I hear. Some sold out to promises of an easier life, scattered to the winds, put out to pasture..." A gentle tsk sees her leaning back in her seat to clamp an iron grip on Jax's shoulder and gives it a light shake. "And some of us resigned to a little of both. General, I'd like to introduce to you my oldest dose of 'easy' life - Jax Greystorm. Forced my resignation earlier than I'd have preferred, but..." a happless shrug. "Here we are."
Jax grin, "Still a honor to meet you." He takes a drink of his Corellian ale. He lets his mother introduce him. "And that's one of my oldes titles. I'm also a member of the Wayward Guild and Captain of the Corellian Phantom. Fastest Corellian Corvette in the sector."
"Peace is something we don't get enough of these days," Leia says quietly, some unknown thought passing over the general's face brought on by a memory perhaps of her own better days, however few they were for the former princess brought into war so young. Maybe that was simplt the way of her family, constantly caught in the biggest struggles of the galaxy. Today however? She's just an aging woman having a drink.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Jax," she says with a hint of fond formality. She'd say more, but instead she turns her attention to the pair proper. "Your retirement is part of why I'm coming to you Ambrosia. You too Jax." She speaks, "I'm sure someone with your...family history, you're not blind to what's brewing in the unknown reigons. The First Order has long been flouting its agreements with the Republic." A pause now, more of her drink is downed before she continues. "I'm sure you both know what this will lead to. But the Republic doesn't want another Galactic Civil war. It's people still remember all that happened in the war with the Empire."
"And yet, they risk squandering freedoms gained..." Ambrosia mutters, fingering her empty glass and staring at the distorted reflection looking back. "I've been out twenty-six years, but I never stopped tuning in." Taking a deep breath, she looks past the petite general's head to the bar. "Lot of intrigue floating around the Smuggler's Moon of late. Slaver rings, death squads..." the left corner of her mouth twitches into a bit of a sly smile and she steals a glance at Leia before pretending to peruse the selection afar. "A certain 'Smuggler' landing in pricey bits of trouble...some things do remain the same." Examining a nubby fingernail, she ponders the dirt embedded therein. "Am I being recalled to active status? If you're a gambling woman, you'll find the odds of me 'resisting' to be quite negligible."
Jax takes a sip watching the bolo ball game's score for a moment, "I'll never figure out how the Rodians can run so fast." He then looks back at the mention of certain smugglers. He points a couple of fingers at himself and looks a bit exacerbated, "Me? I had it completely under control. Trust me." Then he pauses a moment, ?Wait which time? I had it under control both of them.? He responds to his mother. He looks at the Princess, "The First Order. The suppression of non-humans and the loss of freedom." He considers for a moment then looks at his mother. ?Well you always taught me to stand up for those that can't stand up for themselves. Dad always taught me to fight for my freedoms and not let there be another Alde..." He realized who he was talking to and falls quiet. "I'm no marine, I'm a pilot and cargo hauler. I'll do what I can."